And Then We Get To Live
by B and M
Summary: A series of short stories set after "Into Dawn." Rick, Michonne, and the rest of Team Family have survived attacks by the Wolves and the herd, and now they have time to enjoy their new home in the ASZ with no threats looming on the horizon...for now. (I mean, it is The Walking Dead.)
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Everyone! It's been a little while, and I've missed you all, but I'm back with some new stuff as promised. Just a little background, this is a series of one-shots that takes place after the events of** ** _Into Dawn_** **when our favs have a little down time before the next big threat comes along. There's no plot. Nothing profound or earth shattering happens. It's basically just a buffet/potluck of Richonne/Team Fam moments and interactions I've had floating around in my head that I finally wanted to put to paper. Thanks for checking it out!**

 _ **Fireside Chat**_

"I guess I just don't get it," Carl said after he blew out the flaming end of the stick he held in his hand revealing the charred remains of what was once a fluffy, white marshmallow. He blew on it to once more to cool it down before biting off the end and grimacing almost instantly.

"Tastes like shit."

Michonne snapped her head his way upon hearing that. She couldn't help being slightly amused by his uncharacteristic response, but given the fact that they were with company, she didn't feel right letting it slide, much less looking like she condoned it by laughing.

"Carl," she chided lightly before looking up at Aaron and Eric, who were seated on the opposite side of the fire pit, and shaking her head in disapproval.

"Sorry," Carl said with a shrug as he took the other half of the burnt marshmallow from his stick and traded it out for a fresh one.

"Let's just tweak your technique," Michonne said as she watched him. "Don't put it right in the middle of the fire. Hold it above the flame and turn it slowly so you get light brown on the outside and gooey on the inside."

"Why don't you just do it instead?" he challenged her. He'd had good days and bad days since his injury. Some days he was the sweet boy she knew, and others he was moody and prickly. She could never predict what she was going to get, and tonight he was letting his frustrations get the best of him.

"I've got my hands full with Judy and my drink. Just give it a go," she said trying to encourage him.

"I'll take the wine off your hands instead," he proposed dryly. She stared at him for a moment, eyes widened in surprise at the tone he used with her.

"You're really on a roll tonight, huh?" she asked trying to subtly signal that he should rein in his attitude.

"You know what?" Eric interjected from across the fire as he stood from his seat. "I'll be more than happy to take that baby off your hands."

He walked around to where she sat and held his hands out to Judith, making a silly face that she responded to immediately. Taking that as Judith's seal of approval, he scooped the baby into his arms and returned to his seat, bouncing her on his lap while he shared a wistful look with Aaron who looked up to find Michonne observing their interaction with a small smile on her face.

"We were in the process of adopting when this whole thing went down," Aaron explained in a soft voice. He had reached out his hand to Judith who grabbed one finger and seemed to have no plans of letting it go.

"So you were together before?" Michonne inquired as she took the stick with a fresh marshmallow from Carl, and began roasting it over the fire.

"Oh yeah. Four years," Aaron answered.

"Closer to five," Eric corrected which drew a chuckle from Michonne.

"How did you two meet?"

They both began speaking, but Aaron relented. "Go ahead. You can tell her so long as it's the correct version of events."

"It's the only one I tell, my love," Eric answered with slight annoyance before returning his attention to Michonne to launch into his story. "OK, so, I was a curator at the American History Museum in D.C., and one afternoon, I'm walking through my assigned area doing a spot check when I overhear this man talking to his companion about the exhibit they're standing in front of, and he is saying things that are wrong. Like just so wrong. So I stepped in, and offered my expert knowledge-"

"I'm sorry, I can't let you go on," Aaron interrupted. "OK, so my friend and I were at the First Ladies exhibit, and all I said was _Oh, that's very Betty Draper_ when I saw Pat Nixon's dress, and this guy comes out of nowhere, telling me that I'm wrong because the dress was from 1969 and Mad Men was set in the early 60's."

"Because that's a fact!" he countered playfully swatting at Aaron's arm. "I wasn't going to let someone come into _my_ museum and leave misinformed."

"I think you were actually just trying to hit on my date, but that's neither here nor there," Aaron said under his breath.

Michonne was giggling at their banter as she shifted her attention between them and the marshmallow. Once she was satisfied with the doneness, she held the stick in front of Carl and watched out of the corner of her eye as he bit off the marshmallow and made a happy sound while chewing. He looked at her and nodded in approval which caused her to grin. She tilted her head toward the empty stick signaling for him to load up another one for her to roast. She took a sip of her wine, and returned to her attention to Aaron and Eric's ongoing story.

"Anyway…so I politely educated them because that was my _job_ , and went about my business. After work, a few of my colleagues and me headed to a restaurant around the corner for happy hour and guess who's sitting by himself at the bar nursing a glass of wine? This one."

"Because you scared off my date," Aaron clarified with a smirk.

"So I grabbed the seat next to him, and the rest is history," Eric finished completely undeterred.

"Is that the real story?" Michonne asked Aaron with a wink.

"More or less."

"I actually met my boyfriend at a museum, too," she offered up seamlessly.

"Really?" Aaron asked with genuine surprise. He immediately thought of Rick at the mention of a boyfriend, and how unlikely he found that scenario to be before he realized she was speaking of a past life.

"Yeah. I was on young professional's committee at the High Museum in Atlanta, and our mutual friend, Terry, introduced us at an opening. He was a visiting professor of architecture at one of the local universities...and he ended up never leaving," she said with a satisfied grin as she recalled those happy times early in her relationship with Mike.

The mention of Mike caused Carl to look up from the fire where he was mindlessly staring. It was jarring to hear her reveal this information to relative strangers, but to see her do so with a smile on her face and with such a light mood seemed strange to him. He gave their conversation his complete attention now, listening in while perched on the chair next to her.

xxxxxxxx

"That's it," Rick said as he unloaded the last box from the truck. He and Glenn had just returned from a two day run to secure a surplus of supplies for the upcoming winter.

"This is the biggest intake I've ever had," Olivia said as she stared at the pile of goods in front of her waiting to be inventoried. "The two of you did all this?"

Rick and Glenn exchanged a look before answering. "We did," Glenn confirmed.

"Wow. This is impressive, guys. I'll be up all night counting," she said.

"Well, we'll let you get to it then. Have a good night," Rick said as he turned to exit the building, not even waiting for a response from Olivia. He hadn't lost all of his social graces and southern charm along the way, but he couldn't be bothered with small talk or pleasantries now. He just wanted to get back to Michonne and his kids after a night away. The two men walked down the street from the pantry until they stopped in front of their neighboring houses. The lights were out at Rick's except for the lone porch light.

"They're probably at my house," Glenn suggested noticing the confused look on Rick's face. Rick nodded, and the two men started up the path to Glenn's home until they heard a familiar laugh from down the street. Rick smiled immediately knowing who it belonged to. He looked a few houses down and spotted the source.

"Found 'em," Rick said. He clapped Glenn on the back, and turned to head down the street again. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As he walked towards Aaron and Eric's house, he took in the view in front of him. Four lounge chairs surrounded a fire pit in their front yard. Aaron and Eric, with Judith content in his lap, were on one side with Michonne and Carl seated across from them. Carl had his entire body turned in Michonne's direction, seemingly engrossed in whatever conversation she was having with their neighbors. Michonne seemed so relaxed, leaning back in her chair with her legs crossed, one arm draped over the armrest with a glass of wine loosely held in her hand and the other slowly turning a skewered marshmallow over the fire. His eyes traveled the length of her body from her usual black boots and pants to a soft, loose, cream colored turtleneck that enveloped her and brought all attention to her beautiful face which was on full display tonight as she had tied her locks back in a knot in the base of her neck. As he came up behind them, he caught the tail end of their conversation.

"...and he ended up never leaving."

"Smart man. He would have been a fool to leave you," Eric responded which caused Michonne to shake her head in embarrassment at the flattery.

"Evening, everyone," Rick called out as he approached the group causing them to turn their heads at the sound of his voice. He came up behind Michonne and Carl, resting his hands on the back of their seats.

She turned to look up at him and gave a small smile, "Hey. Welcome back," she said in a warm, soft voice.

"Good to be back," he said holding back the urge to bend over and give her a kiss. He instead settled for a quick squeeze of her shoulder.

"How'd the run go? Get everything on the list?" Aaron asked.

"Went really well. We got everything we set out for and then some." His eyes glanced over at the four empty wine bottles grouped on the small side table next to Aaron. "Looks like we should have replenished the alcohol supply, though," he said nodding at their empties with a grin.

"Oh, that's not all our doing. We had a few other people over earlier," Aaron explained.

"Mmm. Sure," Rick joked looking back down at Michonne.

"I swear," she replied passing her half full glass of wine back to him. He pushed it back toward her to decline, but she shook her head and refused to take it back. "I'm done." He took the glass off her hands with a smirk, wondering if that meant he was going to have a tipsy Michonne on his hands tonight.

Carl got up from his chair and pulled on his Dad's arm to get his attention. "Sit," he said.

"I'm good, son. Gonna head home soon anyway. I'm exhausted."

"Sit, Dad," Carl insisted causing Rick to look over at Michonne questioningly. She met his eyes and gave him a small nod urging him to comply given Carl's mood tonight. Rick took the seat next to her and Carl took to the ground, resting his back against the leg of his father's chair.

"This may sound crazy, but when all of this started, did you ever worry about what was going to happen to all of the art? Obviously our safety was first and foremost, but did you ever think about that?" Eric asked Michonne resuming their conversation.

Rick took a sip of his wine, and watched Michonne, interested to hear her response. He had obviously missed the beginning of this conversation, but he was hoping he could catch up, and intrigued that he was about to learn something new about her.

"Of course. I mean, once we knew something bad was happening, but before we understood how terrible it was going to get, I completely thought about it. I lived right around the corner from the museum, and we were safe at home at the time, so I thought about going over there to bring some things back for safe keeping."

"Like Dolley Madison," Eric said with a smile.

Michonne picked up on the reference, and smiled. "Just like Dolley Madison."

"What did she do?" Carl asked from his spot on the ground.

"She was the first lady during the War of 1812 when the British army attacked Washington and started burning most of the city. They were on their way for the White House, but before she and her staff fled, she took a famous portrait of George Washington with her for safe keeping. They burned it down the next day so she's credited with saving it. Did I get it right?" she asked self-consciously shifting her gaze from Carl to Eric.

"I think I have a crush on you," he said with a look of awe on his face.

"Oh my God, stop," she said laughing. "Everyone knows that...right?" Aaron shook his head no and she looked to Rick.

"It sounds vaguely familiar," he said with a grin.

"Who knew your geekiness could rival Eric's," Aaron teased her.

"Don't even listen to him. Next game night, actually every game night from here on out, we are a team. We will clean up in Trivial Pursuit," Eric said.

"I'm in," she agreed. Her competitive streak could not be denied. She looked over at Rick who was shaking his head at her. He didn't know Eric too well, but appreciated that the man had realized what he already knew: being on Michonne's side was always the smart play.

xxxxxxxx

"I'm gonna put her down and take a shower," Rick said over his shoulder to Michonne as he entered the house and headed straight up the stairs with a sleeping Judith cradled in his arms.

"Good night you two," Michonne called after them even though she was certain he'd end up in her room later. She wasn't even sure if they were keeping up the appearance of just friends anymore, but she decided to err on the side of caution. She walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and noticed that Carl had followed her the entire way.

"You need something to eat or drink before bed?"

"No," he answered curtly. She filled her cup and planted herself next to him at the island giving him a quick rub on the back.

"Oof, you smell like smoke," she said as she picked up the scent of the fire pit on him.

"So do you," he shot back. She lifted the front of her sweater up to her nose and inhaled.

"You are correct," she said with a chuckle. She looked down at him and noticed his face hadn't changed from its glum expression.

"You OK?"

"Just not in a good mood tonight."

"That's allowed. God knows I've been in moods that lasted for months at a time," she looked down surprised she still hadn't connected with him like she was usually able to do. "You think next time you could just not swear like a sailor and try to get drunk in front of the neighbors?"

She watched his face as he tried to hold onto his sour look but finally lost the battle and let the corners of his mouth turn upward.

"I didn't do that," he said bashfully.

"You tried," she said with a grin. They were silent for a moment before Carl finally spoke.

"I can't believe you told them about Mike," he said softly. She couldn't blame him for being surprised because she had surprised herself with that admission. A little red wine coupled with Aaron and Eric's company had brought back a familiar feeling of her old life that she hadn't experienced since the turn.

"Yeah. It just kinda came up."

"I thought you were going to tell them about Andre, too."

"No, I wasn't going to do that. If I had, though, it wouldn't have been a bad thing. It's OK for us to talk about the past."

"I just...I know you said it wasn't a secret, but I felt like Dad should know before they do."

"He knows."

"You told him?"

"I did. He knows everything. I told him a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh..."

"I guess I should have told you, it's just been...insane lately."

"No, I get it. I'm glad you told him."

"Me too." Carl looked at her thoughtfully and nodded before gracing her with his second almost smile of the night.

"I'm gonna head to bed. I'm exhausted."

"OK, love. Good night," she said squeezing his shoulder and kissing the top of his head before she watched him walk off and up the stairs.

xxxxxxx

Michonne peeled her sweater off revealing the white camisole underneath then draped it across the chair in the corner of her room hoping to air it out. She walked over to her dresser, standing in front of the mirror, and raised her hands to her head to start unfastening the clips that held her hair up.

"Don't do that."

She froze in place, surprised by the command, and turned her face toward her door to see Rick closing it behind him and walking toward her.

She watched him in the mirror as he came up behind her, placing his hands on her hips and burying his face on the crook of her neck leaving light kisses.

"Who are you?" he asked in a low growl that caused her to come a little undone and laugh softly.

"Are you drunk?" she teased.

"I'm serious," he said as he continued to kiss her neck on between words while his hands moved around to her flat belly, hooking his thumbs in the top of her waistband so that he could pull her back into him. "I've never seen you like this before. Your hair up and the sweater, looking so relaxed, talking art and history..."

She turned in his arms to face him and hoisted herself up on her dresser to have a seat, eye to eye with him, sensing a discussion coming on. He stepped into the space between her legs and placed his hands on her thighs.

"You know me," she said softly.

"I'm not sure I really do. We never got that traditional getting-to-know-you period."

"You know me better than anyone else ever has. You get who I am now. Every side of me," she reassured him, placing her hands over his.

"I know. It's just so strange to see a completely different side to someone you feel so close to."

"I understand."

"We never would have met before..."

"Significant others aside? No, not a chance," she said with a warm smile. "I know it does it for a lot of ladies, but the whole man in uniform fantasy was never my thing anyway."

Rick huffed feigning offense which caused her to laugh.

"Sweaty, dirty alpha male in cowboy boots is, though. Who'd have thought?"

"Who'd have thought," he echoed with delight. "So why don't you fill me in on the rest?"

She sighed not wanting to go into it all not because she wanted to keep it private, but because she it just seemed to matter less and less with each passing day.

"OK. So when you went to Grady? You saw my home. I lived about a mile up the road in one of those high rises with Mike and Andre. And just around the corner from there, in another one of those high rises, is where I worked. I was a lawyer."

He held her gaze for a moment, then dipped his head and began to speak.

"I said before we never got the proper getting to know you period..."

Michonne chuckled at that. "No, I'm not sure we'll ever experience a proper date in our lives, but that's OK."

"Well, if we ever have a time where things are calm, and we can," he said looking back up at her, "I thought of something I'd like to do."

"What's that?"

"We'd go into DC, to whatever museum you choose, and you could show me around and introduce me to your world, and then we'd take back some pieces for safe keeping here until things start to turn around."

She tilted her head and looked at him, taken back by his sincerity and thoughtfulness. There was no room for conventional romance in the apocalypse, but even if there was, she doubted that would be something they would engage in. All that said, though, this was one of the most romantic things she'd ever heard of. Even if things calmed down enough for them to go to DC, it would still be risky, and there would be walkers to kill along the way, but there was literally no one else on the earth who could take on this feat with her or even want to do something like this for her. Only Rick Grimes.

"You'd really do that?" she asked still overwhelmed by the offer.

"If it's ever possible, absolutely."

"I would love that," she said leaning in for a kiss as she wrapped her legs around him in anticipation of him lifting her up so that they could make their way to her bed to show just how much they missed each other while he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**So this update really is 100% fluff...or at least 95%. I promise. I know the Carl stuff bummed some of you guys out last chapter. Sorry about that. There are some references to chapters 16 and 17 of Into Dawn, but the story should pretty much stand on its own. Thanks for reading!**

 _ **Fun and Games, Part 1**_

"Happy to have you all out with us today," Abe said as he drove his tan pick-up truck down the back roads of Alexandria that led to the former mall site his construction crew used for supplies.

"Well, now that things are relatively quiet, construction and training are top priorities. I'm only sorry I couldn't get out here sooner," Rick answered from the front passenger's seat. Morgan quietly nodded in agreement from the back seat.

"Now I know you're used to bein' in charge all the time, but this is my crew," Abraham said in a tone that was either dead serious or completely tongue in cheek. "I don't expect any problems with my man, Morgan, but I just need you to know who's runnin' things out there."

Rick had his right elbow propped up on the open window as he absent-mindedly rubbed his fingers together while watching the unfamiliar scenery roll by. He took a moment to look at Abraham who wore a big smile on his face, and decided he meant no harm.

"You got it, chief," he assured him as he looked back out the window. He and Morgan shared an appreciation for early morning solitude that their companion apparently did not.

"Say, Rick, you ever met Francine?"

"No, don't think I have yet."

"You should make a point of it. She's the lone female on our crew so she'll be easy to spot."

"I'll be sure to say hi," Rick responded perfunctorily knowing that he'd make the same effort to say hello to her as he would to anyone else.

"Now she's not your standard issue hot blonde, but you and I both know that's not a good look on you anyway, brother," Abe said with a chuckle.

Rick wrinkled his nose at the statement feeling at the very least confused, and at the very most slightly offended by what he thought may be the insinuation that he had some sort of relationship with Jessie. Either way he just shook his head and bit his tongue knowing there was no use in trying to stop the steamroller that was Abe once he got going.

"...yeah, she's got this Peter Pan look goin' on, but I got no reason to believe she's all woman under those clothes. A few trips to the boneyard would do you both some good, and she may end up surprisin' you-"

"Don't…don't say that. Come on, have some respect," Rick said with exasperation as he glanced up in the rear view mirror to gauge Morgan's reaction which looked akin to his.

"Fine, then you two can take it slow, just talk or cuddle or do whatever it is that does it for you. Just seems a damn shame for the most eligible bachelor in the zombie apocalypse not to be takin' advantage of his status is all I'm sayin'," Abraham argued.

"My focus is elsewhere right now, but I appreciate you lookin' out for me," or whatever it is you're doing Rick thought to himself.

"You should have it all, man. No reason not to try, especially when we have it pretty damn good right now," Abe said completely undaunted by his protests causing Rick to huff out a small laugh.

"First priority is the safety of this community, then anything I have left goes to my family. That's all I got in me right now," Rick said with finality which seemed to resonate with Abe.

He threw a look over his shoulder to the back seat and decided to focus his energies on Morgan instead.

"So if Rick here's not bitin', how about you, my friend? You interested?"

Morgan continued looking out the window watching the scenery as they drove along. He smiled inwardly, amused that he now found himself the center of attention.

"She sounds like a lovely woman, but I'm just not looking for a relationship right now," he said with his typical sincerity. It made Rick marvel at how his cliché response came off as a genuine reason versus an excuse.

"Not you, too," Abraham groaned. "You know who'd actually be perfect for you?" He waited a beat before answering his own question. "Michonne."

He looked to Rick who kept a blank expression on his face, but allowed his eyes to catch a quick glance at Morgan in the rear view mirror again. Morgan continued looking out the window quietly contemplating his answer.

"It actually makes perfect sense. Does it not, Rick?" Abe asked looking over at Rick who looked back at him and wordlessly gave a tilt of the head and shrug of the shoulders as if he was actually considering the pairing.

"You both have that calm, cool, collected vibe; but then you can go ape shit on someone at a moment's notice. The samurai and the ninja. I like this. This is too good. And Michonne, man...I mean, damn. That's a woman right there, am I right?" Abe asked looking back at Morgan enthusiastically, so proud of himself for dreaming up this match.

Rick stared ahead through the windshield, his teeth clenched and brows slightly furrowed as he struggled keep a neutral expression. He was thankful the sun was shining so bright that he could pass for just squinting to shield his eyes from the glare as he listened.

"Michonne is a great lady, but like I said before, I'm just not looking for anything right now," Morgan repeated deciding that keeping it simple was best, particularly when he was trying to be set up with his good friend's very significant other.

"You two are unbelievable," Abraham scoffed. "All these good women just goin' to waste. Say, is polygamy legal in Alexandria, constable? I think I may have to step up and bear the burden since you all won't do your part. I'm sure Rosita could be down with the whole sister wife thing," Abe carried on completely amused by himself even if no one else appeared to be.

Rick looked over at him from the passenger's seat, and shook his head at his antics.

"Abraham, just shut up and drive."

xxxxx

Michonne splayed her fingers out in front of her admiring her trimmed cuticles and neatly filed nails with two fresh coats of nail polish. Her signature color in the fall and winter months had always been a deep oxblood red, but somehow the color had lost its appeal after two very gory years on the run. There was no glamour or allure to the color anymore; it was just a bit too real and depressing now. So on this cool autumn day, she opted for sheer pink with a hint of shimmer. The image of wielding her katana or gun with her pink nails seemed a bit too precious, but appearances and fall color trends be damned, she just wanted something simple and pretty for herself.

"I can't believe you've been holding out on us all this time," Michonne said to Rosita who was tightening the cap on the top coat she had just finished applying. She set it down on her dining room table and leaned back in her chair, content in seeing that she had made her friend so happy.

"Well, what good is a former cosmetology student out in the middle of the woods?"

"You've got a point," Michonne joked. "Personal grooming and hygiene definitely fall by the way side when you're constantly running for your life."

"Yes they do. I have to admit, when we got to Georgia, though, I whipped up a red clay mud mask one night thinking I'd treat myself."

"And how'd that work out for you?"

"Just ruined my damn shirt," Rosita laughed. Michonne laughed along with her thinking back on how all of her shoes and clothes had been marked by that clay.

"Get up for a minute," Rosita said as she walked over and turned Michonne's chair around. "Here. Sit facing forward."

Michonne eased into the chair, cautiously keeping her fingers clear of anything that could smudge her nails.

"Neck and back massage while you dry. Sorry for the makeshift massage chair," Rosita said as she stood behind Michonne, placed her hands on her shoulders and began knead them lightly.

Michonne rested her forearms on the table and let her head bow. "You don't have to do this."

"It's part of the package. I love getting to do this again. Takes me back," she said as she increased the pressure.

"Oh...my...God," Michonne exhaled as she started to laugh. "OK, I give in. You're the pro. Do your thing."

"You know, the night Carl got hurt, when it was just Rick and me, he started asking questions about how I knew so much about medicine, and I was terrified he was going to ask if it's what I did before the turn. I didn't want to have to tell him I was just a bartender working my way through beauty school while I was caring for his son. In that moment, I was thankful I hadn't ever gotten close enough to either one of you to tell you that."

"He wouldn't have judged you."

"It wasn't even that. I just didn't want to add to his anxiety with one more thing that could go wrong."

"We're all so much more than what we used to be at this point," Michonne mused as she gave into the massage, focusing on what Rosita had accomplished instead of what could have been. "And I know we've said it a million times over, but we'll never be able to thank you enough for what you did for us that night."

Rosita chuckled to herself over her friend's choice of words as she moved her focus to the right side of Michonne's upper back.

"What's so funny?"

"There were a lot of we's and us's in that response," she pointed out.

"Rosita..." Michonne said as a warning that wasn't threatening in the least since Rosita could hear the smile in her voice.

"Michonne..." she teased back.

"He's my friend," she answered. "My best friend," she added hoping to cut her off at the pass.

"Yeah, I've noticed," Rosita said intending to push the issue before she got distracted. "Jesus, you've got the huge knots all up and down your right shoulder."

"You can feel that?" Michonne asked about the area that was the source of frequent aches and pains.

"Yeah, it's really bad," she said as she bent her arm and used the point of her elbow to apply deeper pressure. Michonne clenched her teeth and inhaled hsarply. "Too much?"

"No, no. It's a good hurt."

"You've gotta get this under control or else you're not gonna be able to move your arm one of these days," she said grunting quietly as she threw the entire weight of her tiny frame behind her elbow.

"Right. I'll just make an appointment with the physical therapist," Michonne snarked.

"I'm serious. This is your dominant arm. You can't risk it. Maybe one of your roommates can help you out a few days a week..." Rosita not too subtly suggested.

"Judith does have strong hands for someone her size, but she's just so busy all the time," Michonne answered matter of factly.

"Oh look at you…so funny," Rosita said with a roll of her eyes. "Maybe her dad, your BFF, has some time to spare for you then?"

"Spa days are supposed to be relaxing, right?" Michonne teased.

"OK. I hear you," Rosita relented.

xxxxx

"I tried to hook him up with someone else, then I tried to hook Michonne up with Morgan, and then I tried to hook her up with us," he said throwing his hand Rosita's way causing her to make a face at the suggestion, "but no dice. The man looked like he was gonna shit a brick, but he didn't fold. Any luck?" he asked turning to his girlfriend.

"Girl talk, manicure, and massage. I thought I was in, but nope."

"You two play dirty," Carol said as she peered at the couple from across the table.

"That's rich comin' from you," Abe grumbled under his breath.

"Look, I should already have this in the bag since I'm the only one who's ever even seen them hug, which I do believe is confirmation, but you guys are so stuck on these damn rules," Rosita argued as she folded her arms across her chest and shifted her weight to one leg.

"Rick's hugged me, does that mean I'm his girlfriend? No. So unless they verbally confirm it, it doesn't count," Carol countered.

"Man, y'all don't get it. They gonna pop out a damn kid some day and still tell you to your face they're just friends. That's just Rick and Michonne. Y'all are wastin' your time," Daryl chimed in from his spot on the couch causing the group to collectively look his way.

"But that's the thing, it's so annoying the way they carry on in front of us thinking we don't know what's going on. It's like they think we're too dumb to notice or even worse that they don't trust us. We're supposed to be family," Glenn explained having found himself as their third wheel too many times for his liking and just wanting a little honesty from the man he'd known since almost day one of this nightmare.

"I don't know y'all. I kinda feel for them. It would have been nice to have some privacy when we were starting out," Maggie said as she patted Glenn's arm, trying to appeal to his sensitive side.

"But we didn't, and we made it through. They can more than handle it. We've given them plenty of space, and now they need to 'fess up," Glenn said. "It's the end of the second week, so it's time to up the ante. We'll pass the list around, everyone needs to add one more item to the pot. Make it good."

As the paper made the rounds, Carol turned her attention to the living room where Sasha and Daryl sat on opposite ends of the couch ignoring each other, and the group for the most part, which was their idea of being social.

"Sash, you sure you don't want to join in? It's not too late," Carol called out.

"I'm not touching that," she said evenly not looking up from her book. "But if I was, I would have just asked them straight up. Seems a lot easier than all these games you're playing."

Carol pursed her lips with a fake cheerful smile and returned her attention to the group at the table, some of whom were looking like they were feeling put in their place by her.

The front door to the house swung open without a knock or ring of the doorbell which distracted the group immediately. All nine sets of eyes focused on Carl as he entered his home away from home with his sister on his hip. He stopped short in the foyer, looking around the room in confusion. At most, he expected to run into Eugene and Tara hanging out downstairs like they usually did in the early evenings after work.

"I thought dinner and game night was tomorrow..."

"It is, sweetie," Maggie answered walking towards the Grimes children. "We were just going over who's gonna bring what." She reached out to take Judith in her arms, and ushered Carl into their home with a hand on his back.

"Oh, well, I don't know what we're bringing. Just let me know what you need so I can tell my dad and Michonne," he offered as he came to the table to join them.

"I'll stop over tomorrow and let them know," Carol assured him. "How are they doing? Haven't seen them around as much lately."

"They're fine," he answered nonchalantly. "They just took off on quick a perimeter run before dinner."

Abe and Glenn's eyes met across the table. "Son of a bitch...he and I just did that not two hours ago. Perimeter run my ass..." Abe muttered.

Carl scrunched his face at Abe's reaction then looked at Glenn who was now looking at Maggie with wide eyes and a knowing grin.

"I believe I'm about to have a case of the vapors," Eugene said abruptly as he pushed away from the table and stood up from his chair. "I'm going outside to take in some fresh air."

Tara caught his arm, and pulled him back. "Uh uh. Sit. You don't get anything for catching them in the act anyway."

Carl looked at the group of adults who had fallen silent and were looking at him. "What are you guys up to?" he asked suspiciously as he looked down at the paper in the center of the table. Rosita saw where his eyes were focused, and casually extended her hand out to pull it back towards her, but she wasn't fast enough. Carl swiped the paper toward him and held it in front of his face with both hands as he skimmed the list.

"What is this? Are these prizes? Is this like a pool or something?" he asked in rapid fire succession as he started putting all of the pieces together.

"It's just a shopping list," Abraham said with a wave of his hand.

" _Carol P: a batch of cookies per week for 1 year_ ," he read straight from the paper. "Where do you buy that?" he asked looking Abraham square in the eye.

"Nowhere, I guess," he answered with a smirk, impressed with the young man's incisiveness.

"So what's the game? I wanna play," Carl said boldly. The adults froze, each waiting on someone else to step up to answer him.

"They're trying to see who can get your old man and Michonne to admit they're together first," Daryl called out from the couch.

"Daryl!" Carol hissed in disapproval.

"What? I ain't gonna lie to the kid."

"Are you serious?" Carl asked incredulously.

Glenn nodded his head feeling slightly ashamed at being caught in the act. Maggie eyed him with Judith in her arms, feeling vindicated in her earlier hesitation to participate.

"We think they make a great couple, and we all really just want the best for them. And yeah, we got caught up having a little fun with it," Glenn explained.

Carl nodded in understanding as he perused the list of prizes again. "I want in," he said.

"But you can't really play if they've already told you. Defeats the purpose," Abe explained.

"They haven't told me anything."

"Nice try, kid," Abe rebuffed.

"I'm serious. They've never told me whether they're together or not."

"These two are unreal," Rosita said, arms still folded across her chest, as she shifted her weight to her other foot and shook her head.

"So I just put something in the pot?" Carl asked ready to make this official.

"I really don't know if this is a good idea," Carol said trying to rally support from the group. Carl looked up at her and met her gaze for a moment.

"Let me play or I'll tell them," he said as placed his hands on the table and raised his chin. He was trying to channel his father in this moment, using the tone and mannerisms he'd seen him use time and time again when facing adversaries.

Carol nodded and looked to the group members who quietly began nodding in agreement, as well. They'd rather let him in on their game than have it exposed.

"So go on, then, put down your bet," she said as she placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side while she watched him.

His proud stance deflated a bit, and a satisfied smile took over his face. He braced one hand on the table while he tapped the eraser of the pencil on the list as he thought of what he wanted to bet. If he put in something too good, they'd suspect something was up, but if he undershot, they wouldn't take him seriously. He settled on the perfect compromise as he put the pencil to paper. Once he finished writing, he slid it across the table to Carol who picked it up and read it out loud.

"Alarm clock/CD player."

The adults nodded, pleased with his offering, as Eugene just stared at him.

"I hate to voice an unpopular opinion here, but I do believe that Carl's unique relationship and consanguinity with Michonne and Rick, respectively, would be a conflict of interest. Those factors,paired with his objectively undeniable boyish charm, put him at a distinct advantage over all of us," Eugene explained to the group.

"He's got a point. If he asks, they'll tell him," Maggie found herself agreeing, not sure why she was still participating in this discussion.

"So what if we level the playing field? He not only has to get them to admit it, but he has to have at least one witness," Glenn offered.

"And Judith doesn't count," Tara quickly added in knowing it seemed obvious since the baby couldn't even speak yet. "Just making sure we're clear," she said with eyes narrowed at Carl who matched her stare. The pair had a friendly relationship based on a love of video games and a healthy sense of competition.

The group seemed satisfied with the compromise and looked at each other coming to a consensus with eye contact and nodding of heads.

"So you accept the terms?" Abe asked.

"I accept," Carl said with a smirk.

 _To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**I was just planning on writing some fun little throw away's every couple of weeks until the premiere, but your reviews and enthusiasm totally sucked me in. So here I am getting way too into this because of you guys. Grrr. But for real, you're fab and making this so fun. So not as much fun and games in this part, but these are just some takes on scenes I've been dying to write, so thanks for indulging me. Hope you enjoy!  
**  
 **Fun and Games, Part 2**

Rick made the first cut into his chicken, slicing off the end and then slicing it once more. He popped one half into his mouth to check the temperature, and once he deemed it cool enough, he passed the other piece to his daughter who was sitting to his right in her high chair at the head of the table.

Carl looked up between bites of food, his attention caught for a moment by his sister seated opposite him. He watched as his father and Michonne each simultaneously extended a hand in front of Judith offering her first dibs on their meals. A lopsided grin formed on his father's face as he looked up at Michonne who had started to smile, as well. He playfully pushed her hand out of the way causing her to laugh a bit too readily; louder and a little higher in pitch than he was used to. She extended her hand back out in front of Judith, only her eyes were still on his father. As they tried to outdo each other, Judith swiped at the air, missing their hands and the food she had been conditioned into expecting. After a few more missed attempts, her face changed from slightly confused to amused as she figured that this was actually a game instead of dinner time. As she started to giggle and bang on the table in delight, the eye contact was finally broken between the adults as they looked at her.

Laughter and light-heartedness started to find him again once Michonne came around, so much so that it was just a part of his life now. A part of his dad's life, as well, seeing as she was one of the only people he ever seemed to loosen up around. So what was happening at the end of the table wasn't so unusual, but at the same time it was. Sarcasm, teasing, and messing around with each other was the standard sense of humor in the Grimes house, but the two of them just seemed...silly.

He was ninety-nine percent sure they were sharing a room every night now even though he'd never actually caught them; and he'd recognized that things just felt strange. He knew they were close friends, but lately they were staring at each other more than usual, standing a bit closer and talking in hushed tones as if everything they said was now top secret, and the smiling. The damned silly smiling all the time. His gut had been telling him that things had changed between them, and now after talking to the rest of the group, he was able to see it all clearly for what it was.

They always ate quickly since they were always starving after a long day's work. Dinner was only for eating; the relaxing and catching up with each other usually happened in the living room or on the front porch afterwards. After the food disappeared, and the plates were scraped clean, Rick stood to clear the table.

"Could you actually hold off on that? I need to talk to you," Carl said looking up at his father. Rick looked at him uneasily, then over to Michonne reflexively.

"Here," she said standing and reaching out for the plates he stacked. "I'll take care of this so you guys can talk."

"No, you too," he said motioning for her to sit back down. She set the plates back on the table and sat slowly looking at Rick curiously.

"We in trouble?" he asked his son with a chuckle.

"No," he replied as he folded his hands in front of him on the table.

"Feels like we are," Michonne said with a wink in her voice as she looked at Carl.

He sighed before addressing them, choosing his words carefully.

"People are saying things about you," he decided to say simply, hoping they would get it immediately and not make this anymore awkward for him.

"Son, that just comes with the territory. Not everyone's gonna like you or what you do, especially when you're calling the shots," Rick explained calmly assuming his son had overheard other community members criticizing their newly appointed leader. Michonne nodded in agreement and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"No, it's not that. They're saying things about the two of you..."

"I'm not following," Michonne said. "Who's saying what?"

Carl shook his head in frustration. Adults could be weird, but he couldn't believe how dense the two incredibly smart and cunning people in front of him were being...unless they were being just that.

"People...our group...are saying you're _together_." He watched their blank expressions with disbelief.

"Like boyfriend and girlfriend," he said slowly with emphasis.

Rick groaned and looked to Michonne still calm as ever, leaned back in her chair. She motioned at Rick with her hand before returning it to its folded position on her chest. Rick understood that she was giving him the go ahead to say any and everything he wanted to to explain this. He sighed and scratched his beard with one hand before looking at his son.

"Yes. We're _together_. We love each other very much and found out that we were something more than just friends." He kept his eyes focused on his son who was quiet.

"It's just something that changed between us. Everything else stays the same," he reassured his son.

"Exactly. Nothing changes except that you're a little more stuck with me now," Michonne said with a grin hoping to support Rick and reassure Carl at the same time.

"I know," he said unfazed. Michonne and Rick looked at each other a bit surprised that this was how "the talk" was panning out because it was completely quick and painless.

"You want to talk about it? Any other questions or worries?" Michonne asked.

"No, not really about you guys, but there is this bet…"

Michonne tilted her head at the news, wordlessly urging him to proceed.

"Our group, they have a competition going to see who can get you guys to break first."

"Well, this explains a lot," Rick said under his breath thinking back to Abe's increased weirdness around him. "So what's the deal?"

"They said I could be in on it, but I have to get you guys to admit to it in front of a witness."

"I really can't believe you'd do us dirty like this," Michonne said only half-teasing.

"That's not what I'm doing! They all know already...and so did I, for the record," Carl said defending himself. "So what I'm doing is offering you a way to do this on your own terms with my help. It's a win-win for all of us."

Michonne nodded respectfully at the young Grimes boy's smarts.

"And what's at stake here? What is it you're willing to sell us out for?" she challenged with a grin feeling herself get sucked into the little game.

"There's a long list of prizes. There's champagne, DVD's, jewelry..." he rattled off.

"And?" Michonne pushed knowing he hadn't answered her question.

"An Atari that Eugene refurbished."

Rick wrinkled his nose at that prize. "But you have an Xbox or a PlayStation or whatever the hell that is," he said motioning his thumb back at the console and tangle of wires and controllers in front of their TV.

"Yeah, but I want this, too," Carl answered.

"Can't you just play it when you go over there?" Rick asked.

"No. Eugene won't let me. He says I'm too young to understand it."

"Well, he's not wrong. You're going to be massively disappointed with it compared to the technology you're used to," Michonne pointed out.

"Well, I'd like to see for myself. That's all I care about. You guys can take everything else. So you in or you out?"

Michonne looked at Rick whose face literally looked pained by this conversation.

"If you say they're already onto us, I'm fine with it," Michonne said coolly.

"Dad?" Carl and Michonne looked at Rick expectantly. He looked back and forth between the two, his expression not lining up the mischievous smiles on their faces.

"Fine," he relented knowing he was outnumbered.

"Yes! All right!" Carl exclaimed, undoubtedly the happiest he'd seen the kid in a few weeks. "This is gonna be good." He popped up from his seat, giving Michonne a quick hug before rounding the table to do the same to his father before heading out of the room.

"Where you going?" Rick called after him.

"Gonna go upstairs and finish my homework. Good night!" He hollered back as he bounded up the stairs so quickly almost as if he wanted to leave before Rick could change his mind.

Rick's shoulders slumped and his elbows that had been propped on the table collapsed flat on the table, followed by his head which he rested on his folded hands. Michonne chuckled from her vantage point across the table. He was the bravest, most fearless man she'd ever known, yet there were certain things little that could turn him into a weary, old man. She lowered her head to try to meet his gaze, and extended her arms across the table lightly gripping his forearms.

"Rick," she said softly with a grin.

"Y'all are killing me," he groaned causing her to laugh.

"Rick, my love, you have faced much harder battles than this one..."

He lifted himself from his slumped position, and leaned back in his chair, catching one of her hands to hold across the table as she straightened up, as well.

"I know, but why does this have to be a battle at all?"

"It won't be. Carl said they all know anyway. So we confirm, they lose interest, and everybody moves on with their lives."

"You think it's gonna be that easy? You answer one question, that opens the door for ten more."

Michonne scrunched her face, and shook her head at him. That's not how she pictured it going at all, but he disagreed.

"No," he drawled, surprised at her overly optimistic outlook. "You'll see. _When are you going to get married? When's Judy getting a little brother or sister?_ "

She shrugged her shoulders. "And I'll just say, _Mind your damn business_ , sweet as pie with a big ol' smile," which she demonstrated for him. He couldn't hold back a smile of his own when she did that.

"Everything I do, _we_ do, is up for discussion and judgment. It's been really nice having something that's just ours."

"It has been nice, but it's also going to be nice not having to sneak around or hold back in front of other people. No matter what happens, this house is our place. That room," she said pointing upstairs toward their bedroom, "is where you can leave it all behind and be you. It's still just you and me like it has been."

xxxxx

"Come in," Carl called out in response to the knock at his bedroom door. Rick opened the door and stepped in, immediately noticing changes since the last time he'd been in his son's room.

"I like what you've done with the place," he said as he closed the door behind him. Carl had moved some of the furniture around, most notably pushing the two twin beds together.

"I was too tall for the bed. Needed more space," he explained.

"Yeah, I understand," he said having spent many nights tossing and turning in one of those twin beds, as well. "You know what? You can take Carol's old room since I'm movin' out."

"Dad...you never even used that room," he said fairly certain that his father had moved straight from sharing a room with him to sharing one with Michonne. Rick quietly nodded, looking out the window, then back at his son having been called out on his bull shit.

"Well, you want it?" he asked.

"No, I like this room, but I will trade out for the full bed if that's OK."

"Sounds like a good idea to me. Judes can take that room when she gets a little older," Rick agreed.

Carl nodded and returned to his school work that rested in his lap as he sat up in his bed. Rick took a seat at the edge of the bed and watched him for a moment.

"Carl."

"Yeah?" he asked looking up.

"You really OK with all of this?"

"Yeah, I'm really OK with all of this," he said without any thought as he looked back down at the math problem he'd been working on. Rick looked around the room and sighed, catching Carl's attention. He shut his book realizing that his dad wasn't making a move to leave yet.

"You're afraid I have mixed feelings because of mom," he stated causing his father to look back up at him.

"Yeah...it's one thing for me to decide to move on, but it affects you, too, and you didn't really get a say in the matter."

"I know we never talked about, but I feel like we both already made the choice to pick ourselves up and move on. And Michonne was a big part of that."

"Yeah, she was," Rick agreed.

"I don't know when it happened, but we've felt like a family for a while. It'll never be the same as it was with mom, but it works and it makes me happy. And I know it makes you happy, too."

"It does," Rick said. There wasn't much else to say since his son was saying it all for both of them.

"So yeah, I'm more than OK with this. Just don't fuck it up," Carl finished.

Rick raised his eyebrows at his son's use of language, remembering that Michonne had given him the head's up about it. He decided in that moment, though, that he would have to start letting him make his own way, and given the insight he had just shown, a few curse words weren't derailing him at all.

"So you thought about how you're gonna go about winning this bet?" Rick asked changing the subject.

"Not really, I was just gonna wing it. Probably do something tomorrow when we go next door for dinner."

"I know you probably don't want to hear this from your old man, but I'd strongly suggest going in with a plan. If anything, just to make sure I don't fuck it up for you," Rick said dryly with a grin which his son appreciated.

"So you think you could help me come up with something?" Carl asked setting his books aside and opening up his notebook to a fresh page to take notes.

"Yeah. I think I could do that."

xxxxxx

Daryl sat on Glenn and Maggie's front porch smoking a cigarette, taking a break from the preparations underway inside and trying to have a final quiet moment before the night started. As he looked out over the yard, the final group of guests came into his field of vision. Rick, Michonne, Carl, and Judith came down the path in front of their home and made a left turn on to the sidewalk that would lead them to their destination. Daryl took a final drag off his cigarette as he watched them walk. Rick, freshly showered with his curly hair pushed back behind his ears and a clean plaid shirt tucked into his jeans, had Judith on his hip. Michonne was at their side in her black pants and favorite new cream sweater. They smiled and chatted with each other as Carl led the way, carrying a casserole dish covered in foil in both hands. They looked every bit the part of the picture perfect post-apocalyptic blended family they were.

 _Like lambs being led to a slaughter_ he muttered to himself with disgust as they started up the path towards him. He went to put his cigarette out on the white porch railing before remembering the hell Carol had given him for doing that once before. Instead he put it out on the bottom of his shoe, and held on to the butt to toss in the trash once he went back inside.

"Hey, Daryl," Carl greeted as he was the first one to arrive.

"Hey yourself, kid," Daryl said as he nodded at Rick and Michonne.

"We the last ones?" she asked.

"Yep," Daryl said as he stood to follow them inside. He stopped in place, though.

"Say, Rick, you got a minute?"

Rick turned back to look at Daryl who was looking down, rolling the cigarette butt between his fingers. "Always."

Upon hearing Rick's response, Michonne reached for Judith and entered the house with Carl.

Rick shoved his hands in his front pockets, and turned to look at Daryl. "Everything OK?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to give you a head's up before you go in there. They're all on some ridiculous mission to out you and 'Chonne."

"Yeah," Rick said a knowing grin. "I may have heard something about that. Thanks for looking out." He gave Daryl a pat on the back as a sign of appreciation.

"I got a bottle of Jack. You interested?" Daryl asked figuring his friend could use the drink as much as he could this evening. Rick nodded, and the men turned to make their way into the gathering.

 _To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Fun and Games, Part 3**

"Well, hello!" Carol exclaimed from the kitchen when she looked up to see Carl, Michonne, and Judy making their way into the house.

"Sorry we're late," Michonne apologized as she came to stand next to her in the kitchen.

Carl placed the casserole dish on the island then walked to the other side of the kitchen where Abraham and Tara were digging through the contents of a galvanized tub that sat on the counter filled with ice and various beverages.

"No worries. You know this group never does anything on time anyway. Where's Rick?" she asked scanning the room for him, wondering if she'd somehow missed his entrance.

"He's out front talking with Daryl. They shouldn't be much longer," she said as she readjusted Judith on her hip. She wasn't sure if it was that the baby was nearing a year old or just thriving since they'd made it to Alexandria, but she seemed to be getting heavier by the day.

"Hmm, that's interesting," Carol said distractedly as she looked at the front door. Michonne eyed her as she thought the opposite: Rick and Daryl talking was downright uninteresting and common place. She was clearly feeling a little nervous that Daryl was beating her to the punch.

"Anyway," Carol said with a sigh, returning her attention to the two ladies on front of her. "You're looking so pretty tonight, Miss Judith," she said of the baby's grey sweater and pink striped leggings as she reached out to rub her back. Judith turned her head, burying it in Michonne's chest, and clutched the front of her sweater in her tiny hand. Carol retracted her hand and laughed self-consciously as Michonne looked down, surprised as Judith's reaction, as well.

"I think she's overtired and in a mood," Michonne said as she held Judith a little tighter and patted her back to soothe her.

"I don't think that's it. She napped when I had her this afternoon."

"Then it's just a mood. I don't know," Michonne said plainly to which Carol began to smirk. "What?"

"She was afraid I was going to take her away from you...you know it's funny, I practically raised her along with Beth, but the way she's attached to you...I don't know. It's different. It's like she knows something," Carol said vaguely, letting it hang in the air for Michonne to think on.

Only Michonne was distracted by the sound of three consecutive bottle caps popping followed by the expected fizzing sound from carbonation being released. She looked up to see Carl following Tara and Abraham out to the living room with a brown long neck glass bottle in his hand. She caught his attention and arched an eyebrow at him to which he held his bottle up in her direction.

"IBC. Root beer," he explained with a smile on his face as he kept walking.

She started to return her focus to Carol when she noticed that Daryl and Rick, now accompanied by Morgan, had finally come inside and were gathered around the dining table where Daryl was pouring a round of whiskey for the three. Just perfect, everyone's working an angle here, she thought to herself. Keeping Carl separated from her and Rick certainly increased everyone else's chances of getting a go at them. It was smart, but equally annoying.

"Michonne," Carol repeated bringing a bottle of Merlot into her view. "Wine?"

"No, I'm good."

"I've never known you to pass up a glass," Carol said as she poured one for herself. She looked at Michonne out of the corner of her eye as she recorked the bottle. "There are only two good reasons not to drink at a party...and I know you're not driving home."

Michonne let out a short laugh, amused by her audacity, skipping right over implying they were in a relationship and just going straight for a pregnancy. They group was obviously not holding back tonight. She just shook her head.

"Just not in the mood," Michonne responded, completely unflappable.

"Can I suggest, friend to friend, that you just take a glass whether you're drinking or not? To keep you from getting stares and comments from everyone? You know how nosy people can be."

"Oh I do, but it's nothing I can't handle," Michonne said sweet as pie, just like she told Rick she would. "Thanks, friend," she said as she brushed Carol's shoulder on her way out of the kitchen.

She nuzzled her nose into the top of Judith's head and whispered, "I know you're just a baby, but we've gotta work on your game face, Judes. That is not how the Grimeses roll." She ended her little lecture with a kiss before she looked up at the group scattered across the living room. She had her choice of Carl, Tara, Abraham, and Eugene clustered in one corner around a card table; Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, and Rosita on the couch chatting; or Daryl, Rick, and Morgan now seated at the dining table enjoying their drinks.

"Gentlemen," she addressed the men as she walked up to the table.

"Good evening, ladies," Morgan said as he stood from his seat, his good manners still intact. "Please," he said motioning for her and Judith to take his place which made her smile.

"Thank you, but we're just stopping by to say hello. Won't be here for long," she said as she made eye contact with Rick as he nursed his drink.

"Sit your ass down. Have a drink with us," Daryl said as he pushed an empty tumbler her way. He certainly lacked Morgan's chivalry, but she took his command as nothing but a sign of his affection and respect. She picked it up, turning it in her hand pondering whether to give in or not as a grin spread across her face.

"Is this the shit you always seem to find out in a shack in the woods?"

"'Fraid not. Just some brand name shit. May as well be water," he said with disgust.

"Mmm," she said as she put the empty glass down. "I'll pass then."

Rick looked back and forth between the two with a grin; he'd been so wrapped up in his own world that he'd forgotten his _brother_ and his...other half got along so well. A sign that bode well for the future of his relationship.

"Man, you're no fun since you got married," Daryl retorted, luckily in a harsh whisper. Michonne sneered and quickly checked behind her to see if anyone was within earshot.

"And you're no fun since you moved to the 'burbs," she responded sharply causing Rick to chuckle.

"Relax. This is base. It's safe here," Rick said making a circular motion with his hand to include the two men next to him.

"So they know..."

"Yeah. They're not in on it," he answered which explained why he looked so relaxed among them. She nodded slowly at his revelation.

"You got a big mouth, Grimes," she said surprised that he'd been responsible for disclosing their relationship to two people outside of their immediate family versus her zero.

He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his drink before offering it to Michonne.

"I'll trade ya," he said nodding his head toward Judith. She took the glass of Jack Daniels from him and loosened her grip on the baby so he could take her from her arms. She took a sip, feeling relaxed enough to take a seat at the table. This was definitely the safest place to be until Carl enacted his plan.

xxxxxx

"Hopscotch!" Maggie yelled.

"Yes!"

Michonne hurriedly turned to a fresh sheet of paper on the easel in front of her and looked at the next clue. Her fiercely competitive nature, artistic inclination, and a few drinks to loosen her up made her a formidable opponent much to the chagrin of everybody but her three teammates. She drew a large circle, with two triangles on top. Then eyes, nose, whiskers.

"Cat!" Glenn yelled. She tapped her nose to signal he got it right then she started drawing arrows extending outward on the paper.

"Up, down, out? Outcast?" Rick guessed.

She shook her head _no_ then drew a small circle in the bottom of the page with the same triangles on top, eyes, nose, and whiskers. She pointed back and forth between the two with her marker.

"Kitten? Baby cat? Little cat? Big cat?" Maggie went on. She signaled that _big cat_ was correct which caused Glenn to jump in.

"Big cats: lion, tiger, panther, jag-"

"Candy bar," Rick called out just as the buzzer rang.

"Yes!" she exclaimed as she started to count their points for that round. Groans came from the other two groups.

"You've got to be kidding me with that," Rosita said of his left field guess. "It doesn't even make sense."

"For God's sake, just get married already," Abe bellowed.

Michonne ignored the chatter as she finished counting their points and marked it on the scoreboard.

"Seven points," she practically sang as she walked back to her group where they sat on one half of the sofa. Rick held out his hand to return her drink that he'd been holding for her while she was up. She used her free hand to give fives to each of her teammates then she sat back down on the floor in front of the sofa in the space between Rick and Glenn's legs.

"You guys sure you even need us? Feels like you're playing a different game. Cats to candy bars?" Glenn asked as he looked up at Maggie who was perched on the armrest beside him.

"Yeah. That's pretty random," Maggie agreed with a laugh.

Michonne angled her body to look up at them and found herself leaning against Rick's leg in the process. She had a moment of recognition that she should probably re-position herself, but the whiskey she'd imbibed quickly overrode that thought.

"I'm sorry, you guys. It's the name of my favorite candy bar."

"But you could've just drawn a candy bar," Glenn responded.

"You're totally right," Michonne said feeling a little silly in retrospect. She just went with the first thing that popped into her mind, and he was right, it was something only one half of that team would have been able to get.

"You know, I'm just gonna say something I should have said a long time ago."

Maggie looked down at Glenn nervously unsure of what he and the three beers he'd had were about to say.

"It's pretty obvious to everyone what's going on here," he said pointing at the couple in front of him. "And I don't know why you're trying to deny it. This is a good thing, something we don't get enough of these days. Enjoy it."

Maggie patted Glenn on the shoulder and laughed, "Honey, you're sounding like daddy with one of his speeches."

"Yeah, it does sound like something Hershel would have said, but you know who actually said that to me? Rick," he said nodding his head at him.

Michonne looked up to see Rick's reaction. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, but was looking Glenn in the eye with a small grin.

"You really said that?" Maggie asked.

"I did," Rick said with a nod. "Back on the farm, when you two were just starting out."

"And it was good advice," Glenn inserted.

"Yeah, I guess it was. Just look how things worked out with the two of you."

"Yeah, and it can for you, too," Glenn said sincerely catching Rick off guard. He was one of his oldest friends, and he respected him enough to want to tell him the truth right then and there, but his allegiance to his son wouldn't allow that. So he just tightened his jaw and nodded respectfully, choosing to stay silent.

"OK, everybody quiet down. We're ready to start," Tara announced as she started the timer and began drawing out the first clue for her team.

Michonne looked up at Rick who allowed himself a small glance in her direction. She'd always known Rick had a good heart, but by the time she met him, it was something that he kept guarded given everything that he'd been through. It was interesting for her to hear of another time when he was more optimistic and open with his feelings. She leaned a little heavier into the side of his leg and smiled to herself while returning her attention to the game going on in front of her.

xxxxxx

Michonne opened the powder room door finding herself coming to an abrupt stop as she ran smack into a wall. A soft wall of plaid that began to shake with laughter when she startled and gasped. She looked up to see Rick's handsome scruffy face with a large smile, and immediately pounded his chest with her fist in response.

"God! That's not funny. Creep," she snarled as she pushed his chest. He caught her right hand in his hand and wrapped the other arm around her waist, bringing her against his body.

"Oh, it's very funny. And cute. I don't think I've ever seen you scared before."

"I wasn't scared."

"You sure about that?"

"You should stop," she warned. "What are you doing anyway?"

"I missed you."

She quirked an eyebrow at his sweet statement. "Rick missed me or Jack did?"

"Maybe a little bit of both, but mostly Rick," he answered as he started to walk forward, pushing them back into the powder room. He pressed his lips to hers and reached back to shut the door behind them.

"We can't do this," she whispered as she turned her head to break the kiss. "Everyone's in the next room."

"They're not payin' attention," he said as he started to lower his lips towards her again.

"Uh uh. Later," she insisted was she traced her index finger over his lips. He let out a small frustrated groan.

xxxxxxxx

 _Later_

 _…_ _surprised you said that..._

 _Well…  
_  
"Is there seriously a line for the bathroom?" Carl asked as he came up behind Eugene in the hallway.

Eugene lifted his forehead from where it rested on the bathroom door and turned to look at Carl. His eyes darted around and he stammered as he searched for words.

"Are you OK? You look like you're gonna be sick."

"I...I am...I believe I am on the losing end of a battle with the crab dip. There are many lessons I have learned in the past few years, and one of the most important is to stay away from anything made with three year old mayonnaise...and fake crab for that matter. Never forget that my young friend."

Carl's face distorted with disgust and the general disorientation that one felt after having a conversation with Eugene. "Is there somebody in there? You should knock and tell them it's an emergency."

"No. It's clear. I'm just waiting outside to get some fresh air between rounds."

"That's just gross, Eugene."

"It tru-"

Eugene stumbled forward as the door he was still leaned against opened.

"What the hell?" Rick called out as he instinctively held out his arm to bar Michonne from whatever it was that was moving toward them.

Eugene caught himself from falling, and braced his hands in the door frame then widened his feet so that his body was effectively in an _X_ shape blocking them from exiting. Rick and Michonne fell silent realizing they had been caught in a seemingly compromising position and looked at each other, mouths slightly agape. Rick looked up and noticed another figure just beyond Eugene.

"Shit," Rick muttered as he looked at his son, standing there with eyes wide, teeth clenched, and head tilted.

"Carl..." Rick started as he went to move around Eugene who moved his body to block his exit.

Carl stood there silently, shaking his head at his father. Rick looked back at Michonne whose eyes were darting between the three men, her mind likely going a mile a minute trying to think of an out that could save face and Carl's chance at winning the game.

"I can't believe you," Carl said scathingly as he looked his father dead in the eye, the right corner of his lip turning ever so slightly upward as he did.

"Carl, I can explain," Rick pleaded once again trying to get around Eugene who moved to block him.

"Get the fuck out of my way," Rick growled lowly, enunciating each word. Eugene relented and let Rick through, but blocked Michonne as she went to follow him. She watched as Carl stormed off into the living room with Rick three steps behind him.

"Son!"

"I don't want to hear it!"

Michonne watched them until they were out of her sight then looked back up at Eugene.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me with this."

"You're an intelligent woman. I'm sure you can appreciate that this is the only way for me to go about this. I'll never be having heart to hearts with you and Rick over morning coffee. You say the magic words, and you can pass go," he explained.

She stayed silent and stared him down causing him to furrow his brow and lower his head.

"Please don't hurt me."

"Then please let me through," she said with a smile.

He swallowed and relented realizing he valued his health and safety far more than any prize. She ran past him to find everyone gathered at the open front door silently watching the scene in the front yard. Michonne pushed her way through to stand on the porch.

"Let's not do this here," Rick said calmly as he approached Carl. "Let's just go home."

"No! I want to talk now."

Rick placed his hands on his hips, and sighed then looked wearily up at the entire group.

"Now's not the time, Carl," he said calmly.

"I'm tired of you sneaking around and hiding things from me and everyone else. Just be honest. What is going on with you two?"

Rick chewed on his bottom lip then looked up at Michonne. "We're not...we're not sneakin' around, at least not anymore. We're together. So there. Hope you all are happy," he said as he looked up at the group shaking his head in exasperation before looking back down at his son. He leaned in closer and met his eyes. "And we will finish this conversation at home."

The group stood in stunned silence, not at all the celebratory victory and earned gloating any of them had imagined. Michonne looked to Carol and held out her hands for Judy.

"Thank you all for a lovely evening," Michonne said quietly. "I think we're going to head home now."

She walked down the steps of the front porch with Judith on her hip and met up with the Grimes boys, purposely taking a spot in between them. She placed a hand on Carl's back and nodded her head toward their house.

"Come on. Let's go, guys," she said soberly.

The four of them walked in silence back next door and back into the house. Once they were all inside with the door shut behind them, Michonne followed Rick and Carl into the living room where the two had plopped down onto the sofa wearing matching mischievous grins. She stood in front of them, still holding Judith in her arms.

"That was a bit... _dramatic_."

Rick chuckled at her disapproval over their antics. What they did wasn't her style at all, and he fully expected this reaction. If she wasn't holding Judith, he was certain she'd be standing there in front of them with her arms crossed for emphasis.

"You all really didn't leave me with a choice. I couldn't let on that I knew in front of Eugene and he ruined our original plan," Carl explained.

"Well, at least it's comforting to know this wasn't your first choice," she said. "I think the moral of the story is to let me in on the planning next time so things don't go to shit like that."

"Or you two just need to behave," Carl teased.

"OK, whatever you think was going on in there, wasn't. I can assure you. And that wasn't my doing anyway. You're partner there," she said pointing an accusatory finger at Rick, "was the one who almost ruined it all."

"OK, OK. Enough. It's out there. Carl won. Everything worked out in the end," Rick said in his defense.

"Yes, in a way that they will never let us live down for the rest of our lives," Michonne countered.

"Did you see their faces? They're mortified. They'll never bring it up again," Rick assured her. He was met with a skeptical look and a shaking of her head. "Wanna bet?"

"Not a chance."

The doorbell rang and all three of them looked over.

"I'm not answering that," Michonne said.

She and Rick looked to Carl who promptly got up and walking over to the door. He peeped through the blinds not seeing anybody, then opened the door and looked down to find a plastic bin full of his winnings. He tried lifting it, but it was far too heavy, so he dragged it into the center of the living room. Michonne and Rick walked over to take a look at his impressive haul, including his coveted Atari. Michonne reached down and grabbed two items.

"These," she said holding up the bottle of champagne and plastic bag full of homemade cookies, "are mine. So don't even think about touching them."

Her voice was stern, but she couldn't keep herself from grinning as she said it. She turned and left the room to place her share of the winnings in the kitchen, but more so to hide the full smile that had erupted on her face. Truth be told, her tough act was just an act and it was starting to crack. Rick was right. Everything worked out, and they'd surely laugh about this night for years to come, but she was going to try to keep up appearances just a little bit longer.

 _The End_

 **I have to admit, you guys made this one so hard for me. There were so many amazing guess about what was going to happen that it definitely messed with my head. I really wasn't sure I could come up with something good enough! Thanks for reading, as always.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I never had any intentions of writing this chapter, but a few of you asked to see "the date" in your reviews from Chapter 1, so I decided to give it a try just for you. That being said, I just want to say thank you for putting that idea out there because it was a fun write for me. Y'all know what's up, much more than I do.**

 **Now, I'm fairly certain Rick and Michonne would never take an unnecessary risk like this, but just suspend reality for a few minutes and follow me into a fluffy little la la land where they can. Hope you enjoy. You're the best. :)**

 **Oh, and this takes place about 2 months after the end of Into Dawn if anyone cares.**

 **Museum**

"Say good bye, Judy."

"Bye bye," the little girl said at her brother's urging from her place on his hip as she held out one hand opening and closing her palm.

"Bye bye, Judes," Michonne answered as she leaned over to kiss her on the forehead.

"Bye bye," the baby responded.

"Yes. Going bye bye. I'll see you later," Michonne said with a smile as she slipped on her down jacket and zipped it up.

"Bye bye," the baby said again.

"Judith, you only have to say it once," Carl laughed.

"Yeah, it's going to be _bye bye_ everything until we teach her some new words," Michonne explained to Carl.

The front door opened, and Rick entered, a light dusting of snow on the shoulders of his jacket. He'd stepped out a few minutes earlier to scrape the ice off the car windows and bring it around to the front of their home, letting the heat run so that it'd be nice and warm when they got in.

"You ready?" he asked Michonne who was already standing in the foyer with Carl and Judy.

"Ready," she confirmed with a smile as she handed him a thermos full of hot coffee.

Rick braced his son's shoulder and brought him in for a quick hug.

"We'll be back by dinner time, OK? Be good. You know you always can go next door if you have any problems."

"I know. We'll be fine."

"I know," Rick said as he leaned in to give his daughter a kiss. "Bye bye, Judith."

"Bye bye," she echoed with a giggle as she tapped his face with her hand.

"Bye bye, _daddy_ ," he softly corrected, hopeful for a different response from her.

"Bye bye."

Carl and Michonne snickered at Rick's failed attempt to add _daddy_ , _dada_ , or any variation of _dad_ to her vocabulary. He'd been pushing hard for it for the past few weeks, but had yet to have any success and it was clearly starting to get to him as evidence by the small frown on his face.

"OK, kiddo. We'll see you later. Thank you for watching your sister," Michonne said to Carl as she leaned in for a hug.

"No problem. Have fun."

The two adults gave the kids one last look, then opened the door to exit. There was a light layer of white on the ground from the snow flurries that had been going on since the previous night. The community members from the area had informed them that it was unseasonably cold for early December, and that getting snow at the start of the winter was even more unusual. Michonne jammed her fists into her pockets and squeezed her arms against her core to fend off the cold. She then broke into a light jog to get herself out of the elements and into the truck as soon as possible. When she opened the door, she was hit by a blast of warm air that instantly made her relax and smile.

Rick opened the driver's side door and hopped in, quickly shutting it behind him to keep the cold from getting in. She looked over at him, her smile still present.

"Thought you'd appreciate that," he said with a knowing grin as he started the car.

She snapped the lid of her mug open and took a sip of the warm coffee as she looked out the window. The light coating of snow in the neighborhood hid some of the damage it sustained from the attacks of the past few months making it look almost perfect again this morning. They nodded a greeting at Spencer as he opened the gate for them, and with that they were finally on their way to Washington, DC.

"Do you even know how to drive in the snow?" she asked as she watched the snow start to fall harder, the dusting on the ground now starting to build up. Rick looked at her sideways.

"What? It's a valid question. King's County isn't that far from Atlanta, and I know I've never driven in snow, so..." she trailed off with shrug of her shoulders.

"No, I haven't ever driven in the snow, but I'm sure I'll figure it out. We've only got about 10 miles to go anyway."

"That blows my mind. It's hard to believe we're that close. Feels worlds away."

"It really does. I was so focused on getting to Alexandria in one piece, that I missed the view of the city when we were driving in."

"It was pretty amazing," Michonne said. "All of the landmarks still standing, no signs of destruction. It was almost like a mirage."

"Well, hopefully it lives up to that when we get there."

"Hey," she said patting his thigh, "if it doesn't, we're out. None of this is worth risking our lives for."

He dropped his hand to cover hers where it sat on his thigh. "I agree, but let's give it a chance. I did say I was hopeful it'd be as untouched as Deanna said it should be."

"You're right. Sorry..." she said as she looked out the window. "You ever been to DC before?"

"Yeah, we went for family vacation when I was around Carl's age."

"We did, too. I went a few times for work, as well. What was your favorite part?"

"The air and space museum by far. I think we got there right when it opened and were the last ones to leave," he reminisced with a chuckle. "My poor mom, she hung in there 'til late afternoon, until she couldn't take it anymore. Told us to meet her at the hotel bar when we were done." Michonne laughed at the story and looked over at Rick who met her gaze. "You ever go there?"

"No, it's not really my thing. I'd have been keeping your mom company at the bar."

"That sounds like trouble," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she was tough as nails. Smart, smart lady. Dry sense of humor. The way she'd say things sometimes, you'd walk away trying to figure out if she was serious or not for days. You remind me a little bit of her."

"It's stupid of me to have just assumed, but from the little bit you've told me, I always figured you grew up in a traditional household. Dad worked, mom stayed at home..."

"I did, sort of. She was twenty when she had me, and she stayed home to raise my younger brother and me, but the minute he got his driver's license, things changed. She went back to school, started working, traveling all the time once we moved out of the house. And maybe I was too young or too close to it to see what was really going on, but she seemed just as happy both ways."

"And your dad? How did he feel about it?"

Rick chuckled at the question because anyone who knew his parents knew that answer, but she'd never had the chance.

"He didn't care. He didn't need her to be a certain way, he just wanted her to be happy."

"Hmm," Michonne let out as she thought about his upbringing. She couldn't help but picture an older version of Rick as he talked about his father. "They sound like great people."

"They were. Strict and tough, but good, loving people."

"Do you know what happened to them?"

"No. I was in the coma at the beginning, and when I asked Lori after we met up, she said she didn't know."

"I'm sorry."

Rick looked away from the road and nodded at her in thanks. She gave him a weak smile, and squeezed his thigh where her hand had stayed resting throughout their conversation.

"Looks like this is our exit," he said as he instinctively put on his turn signal and moved into the right-hand lane.

"I gotta hand it to you, that was some pretty skilled winter weather driving for a southern boy," she teased.

"What'd I tell you?"

xxxx

The pair pulled the truck right in front of the American Art Museum. As they had heard, and hoped, Washington, DC was a virtual ghost town. There were few cars, no walkers, no signs of damage from chaos or rioting; just eerily empty streets painted white by the constant snowfall. Michonne exited the truck and stepped up onto the sidewalk, turning in place to take in a 360 degree view before Rick met up with her. He kept walking then stopped once he realized she was standing still.

"You coming?"

"This is unreal," she said breathlessly. He furrowed his brow, half surprised that she was still so affected by the sight of a desolate city at this point in the apocalypse.

"You never got to see Atlanta like this, did you?"

"Just a little bit when we went to Grady, but not really, no. It was packed with people, more chaotic than ever when we left." She shook her head in disbelief. Seeing a large city center like this hit home more than walking around in the woods and through abandoned small towns like she had been for the past two years.

Rick reached for her hand, and gently pulled her next to him to begin walking up the grand steps of the museum. They were halfway there when she hesitated and turned to him.

"You know, I was just thinking, we should hit the cafe, the gift shop, and the coat check. Every museum has them, and I doubt anyone would have thought to look there. See what we can find to bring back. "

"That's a good idea. We'll do that on our way out."

"Can we do it first? That way if something goes wrong, we've already got what we need?"

"This isn't a run," he said gently as he rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand.

"I know. It just doesn't feel right passing anything up, especially if we can find some coats with the cold weather and-"

"OK. We can do a quick run first. Then can you promise me that we'll just enjoy ourselves for a few hours?"

"I promise. I'm not trying to ruin this. It's just hard for me to turn it off completely."

"Yeah, I get that. Believe me, I do. But I'm gonna try for you and you're gonna try for me."

"Yeah," she whispered as she brought her free hand up to his cheek and brought her lips to his for a kiss.

xxxx

After a quick, but fruitful run, the pair reentered the museum, this time walking hand in hand beyond the lobby into the first exhibition hall. They looked the part of a normal couple on a date. Rick was cleaned up with his curly hair tamed and tucked behind his ears, and his salt and pepper stubble neatly trimmed closer to the clean shaven face she preferred than the beard that he did. He wore a navy blue wool sweater he'd no doubt found in the clothes leftover from the preppy former residents of his home over his white button down shirt with a pair of new blue jeans Michonne snagged for him on a run. Michonne wore a dark grey tunic sweater over black skinny jeans with her boots, her hair pulled back and gathered at the nape of her neck, a style she'd been wearing more often over the past few weeks because she knew he liked it.

As they walked into the exhibition hall, the echoing of their boots hitting the floor with each step drew attention to how deserted the museum was. They looked around seeing only empty walls.

"There's nothing left," Michonne whispered as she removed her hand from his hand, sliding it up his arm to wrap it around his bicep as she pressed in closer to him.

"Nothing's destroyed, though. Everything's just gone," he said as he looked around the room seeing no other signs of damage.

"You think somebody had the same idea as us?"

"Possibly."

"I hope so. It's nice to think that there are other people out there trying to do something for the good of society."

Rick looked down at her and kissed her forehead then pulled her along into the next hall which was devoid of any art work, as well. Michonne couldn't hide the disappointment on her face.

"Do you think they're still alive?" she asked as her eyes scanned the large empty room they stood in the center of.

Rick looked down at her with a perplexed expression. "Why? You wanna hunt them down or something?"

Michonne let out a guffaw that boomed through the room causing her to bury her face in Rick's shoulder to physically stop herself from making that deafening sound.

"God, that was loud," she whispered before taking a breath and trying to explain herself. "I was _asking_ because I hope whoever it was made it. They might be worth running into some day."

"I see. You gonna leave us for a bad ass gang of art collectors if that's the case?" he teased.

"Stop," she said as she lightly slapped the arm in her hand. "You know that'd never happen."

They walked arm in arm through empty gallery space after empty gallery space, seeing no one and nothing at all, and feeling foolish for thinking it'd be any different by the time they reached the last gallery on the first floor. They settled on a bench in the middle of the empty room, regarding the blank white wall in front of them. Michonne rested her head on his shoulder and turned it upward to look at him. He slung his arm across her lower back, letting his hand rest on her hip.

"You know, I'm thinking the staff had the foresight to pack everything up at the beginning," Rick said thoughtfully as he looked ahead.

"That's what I'm thinking, too."

"I'm sorry to dash your hopes of meeting up with that art gang someday," he said with a grin as he looked down at her to catch her reaction which was a roll of the eyes.

"And I'm sorry this was a bust," he said sincerely. "I really wanted this for you...and for me."

"Honestly, even if things had been different, I think the best thing about today is just getting to be alone with you. No distractions, no holding back. We can't exactly stroll around Alexandria holding hands and all that."

"We could, but we'd definitely get some funny looks."

"Thank you for today," she said as she nuzzled her face against the side of his.

"Of course," he said quietly as he turned his face to towards hers and placed his lips to hers for what was meant to be a gentle peck on the lips until she angled her body towards him and placed her hands on each side of his face, drawing him into a deeper, languid kiss. Without breaking contact he angled his body towards hers as well, and placed his hands on her waist, pulling her as close to him as possible.

"I love you," he whispered as they broke contact with their lips to reposition themselves, their faces never more than an inch or two apart.

"I love you, too," she whispered as settled onto his lap and leaned back in for a kiss, surprised not to meet his lips as she expected when he pulled his face back to look at her.

"Have you ever..." he trailed off, tilting his head to the side in place of words,"in a museum?"

She looked at him and took a deep breath while she took a second to answer, making it clear to him that she'd obviously done some things in a museum before.

"Technically no...not sex," she answered honest as always, almost to a fault. "You?"

"No," he answered without hesitation.

"Do you want to?" she asked playfully, eagerly anticipating his response.

"Yeah," he managed to get out before her lips collided with his again.

xxxx

Michonne stood up and smoothed her sweater down, then lifted her hands up to tuck an errant lock back into her place. She swayed as she did so, and immediately grabbed hold of Rick's shoulder to steady herself.

"You OK?" he asked looking back over his shoulder at her with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little," _wobbly_ she finished by motioning with her hand.

He grinned knowing that he was to blame, and hooked his arm around her waist for support until she regained her composure.

"You wanna check out the second floor? We've still got a few hours before we have to get out of here."

"Yeah, I'm down," she said as she wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned into him. She had no reason to believe that there'd be anything to see, but she was enjoying the complete access she had to him for the day.

They walked up the staircase into another empty room, all white walls with nails and placards indicating what used to hang in the space. Michonne's eyes were drawn upward to the large skylight that allowed little light in today. The sun was barely peeking through with the heavy cloud cover and constant snowfall.

"Hey," Rick said as he nudged her arm and pointed back at the entrance they had just walked through. Michonne turned to see a singular splash of color on the white wall, hidden deep in the corner by the entrance. They turned and walked to the picture: an abstract design of yellows, blues, and violets.

" _Only One_. Georgia O'Keeffe. 1959," Rick read from the small plaque just to the right of the framed oil painting.

He looked up at Michonne with a smile on his face, pleased with his discovery and expecting her to be, as well, but she was silent, pensively looking at the painting in front of her.

"Do you know this piece?" he asked.

"No. Of course I know of her and her work, but I'm not familiar with this one."

"Isn't she the artist who painted the flowers that were, uh, more than just flowers?" he asked tentatively, trying hard, but feeling out of his element in this conversation.

"Yeah, that's her," Michonne said as a small smile played on her lips while she continued to look at the painting. "Although she always disagreed with that interpretation."

"Were you a fan of her work?" he asked earnestly, having trouble reading her.

"No, I never really cared for it. I mean, I can appreciate her, especially for what she achieved as a woman in the male dominated world at the time, but aesthetically I just never connected with it."

"Fair enough," Rick said as he watched her. "Any thoughts on this one?"

She paused, eyes still locked on the painting as they had been since he'd spotted it. "I don't...I don't know yet," she said softly finally looking at him.

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to think about it. And when you figure it out, you just let me know."

"I'll do that," she said with a soft smile.

xxxx

Michonne made her way downstairs to check on Rick after putting Judith down for the night and getting herself ready for bed. She paused halfway down once he came into her view. He had a short ladder and tool box set up in front of the fireplace, and he had just pulled out the measuring tape, first spanning it across their mantle, then along the width of the framed painting they'd brought home that day. He muttered some numbers out loud to himself, the stepped up on the ladder and extended the measuring tape along the wall, making small marks with his pencil.

"You need any help?" she called out quietly as she made her way down the rest of the stairs. He looked back at her with a smile as he tucked the pencil behind his ear.

"You can stay right where you are and let me know if it looks centered to you," he said as he lifted the picture, and lined it up with the markings he made. He looked back for her opinion.

"Just drop it a few inches so that it's closer to eye level. Otherwise, perfect," she said as she walked into the living room to stand closer to him.

He pulled a hammer and a few nails out of the toolbox, and more quietly than she thought possible, drove them into the wall. She watched as he stepped down to pick up the painting, then brought it up higher than the nails and carefully slid it down until the wire in back hooked onto them. He tilted the sides back and forth until it felt balanced to him. He then grabbed a small level out of the tool box and carefully rested it on the top of the frame, making minor adjustments as needed for what seemed like forever. She felt her eyes begin to sting with tears as she watched him work fastidiously, knowing it was all for her benefit.

"I think we got it," he said smiling as he looked back for confirmation from her, only to see her wiping a small tear out of the corner of her eye.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he set the level on the mantel and stepped off the ladder, making his way to her side.

"Nothing," she said with a smile despite her teary eyes. She wiped them again, and smiled to reassure him. "I swear. I'm just having one of those moments."

"A good one?"

"Yeah, a good one. I'm just standing here in our beautiful home looking at an original Georgia O'Keeffe painting that my...I don't even know what we're supposed to call each other, but that the man that I love more than anything went out of his way to get for me...and then when you broke out the level, which was so damn cute, I just lost it...The world has supposedly ended and there are dead people walking around outside, yet somehow life seems surreally ideal right now. I don't know, I'm sorry, I'm just rambling..." said as she wiped her eyes and laughed self-consciously.

Rick's worried face eased as became convinced that she really was just happy even if she was uncharacteristically overcome with emotion. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as they faced the newly decorated wall.

"Life is strange these days."

"So fucking strange now," she agreed.

"But you're happy?"

"Completely."

"Me too," he answered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Future Plans**

"Rick!"

He turned at the sound of his name to see Glenn jogging up behind him, and stopped in the middle of the street so that his friend could catch up.

"Hey. You gotta minute to talk?"

Rick glanced down at his watch which read 5:15. He'd hoped to beat Michonne home to get dinner started, and he was already running later than he'd wanted to. He'd been out on a run with Glenn, Tara, and Heath all day, and wasn't sure why he'd waited until now to have a chat.

"If it's not a good time, it can wait," Glenn added sensing his hesitation.

"No. No, it's fine," Rick assured him, not wanting to put his friend off. "Walk with me. Everything OK?"

"Everything's fine. I just had something I wanted to run by you."

"Shoot."

"Maggie wants to start trying for a baby," Glenn blurted out. Rick's pace slowed and he looked at his friend, eyes squinted and lips taut, holding back a response as he expected him to express his feelings about it without even having to ask.

"And I know this is a personal matter, but you're the only one I can go to about this; who'd actually understand."

Rick nodded in agreement. For better or for worse, he was the only person they knew of to bring a child into the world as it stands now.

"I want nothing more than to have a family with Maggie, but part of me wonders whether it's worth it. We're finally in a good place, and we've figured out how to make things work...should we really do something that could jeopardize that?"

Rick started to respond, but Glenn's stream of consciousness continued.

"But then I think about the future...what's the point of building this society if it just dies with us? And who will be there for Judith? There are only a few of us who can actually do something about it...Maggie and me, Abe and Rosita, maybe Spencer, Sasha, Carl someday..."

Rick's instinctively flinched when he heard his son's name; a name that, to him, didn't belong in that grouping.

"So I think what I'm hearing you say is that you want to start a family, but you're scared," Rick deduced, purposely trying to look past the mention of Carl.

"Terrified."

"Glenn, you and Maggie love each other very much, and on top of that, you're strong. You've proven that again and again. I think if family is something you want, you can handle it. And you'll never be alone, we'll be here for you no matter what happens," Rick said placing a hand on his shoulder after he finished speaking.

"Is it all worth it?"

"You know the answer to that," Rick said with a grin.

"Thank you," Glenn said looking Rick square in the eye. Without Hershel, Rick was the only one he could turn to anymore as a mentor, older brother, and friend.

"Anytime...I gotta run now," Rick said as he nodded his head toward his house. "Hungry kids waiting for me at home," he said with a sheepish grin as he began walking again.

He rounded the corner onto his street just as Michonne did from the opposite direction; a smile spread across her face.

"Hey," she said in greeting as she walked up next to him. "Perfect timing."

"Not really. I was trying to beat you home, but I got caught up in something."

"Everything OK?"

"Yeah, just an interesting conversation. I'll tell you about it later."

Michonne looked at him suspiciously, a small pretty smile creeping onto her face as she tried to get him to break.

"No," he said with a chuckle. "Later."

"Damn it," she cursed under her breath as she hooked her fingers around his while they walked up to their house. "I swear that used to work."

"Yeah, well, I'm on to you now. Those eyes and that smile will only get you so far anymore."

xxxxx

"She's gonna throw up on you."

"She would never do that to me, Carl," Michonne protested from her spot on the living room floor where she was flat on her back with her knees bent. Michonne supported Judith with both hands on her belly, as she repeatedly pressed her up into the air over her chest causing the child to laugh wildly.

Rick looked over at the two from his spot on the couch where he was reading and smirked.

"Really? 'Cause she's done it to me for far less."

"Yeah, me too," Carl agreed.

"Fine," Michonne said as she set the baby on the ground next to her and rolled up to a seated position. "These boys are no fun, Judes. Work out slash play time is over."

The baby crawled back to Michonne who took her tiny hands in hers, helping the baby into a standing position. She'd been toying more and more with the idea of walking much to the excitement of her family.

"We could probably find you some proper weights, you know," Rick offered.

"But what fun would that be? Anyway, Spencer has a weight room set up in his garage so no need."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he invited me to lift with him one day... _bro_ ," she responded as she continued to let Judy use her hands for balance.

"Really?" Rick asked surprised to hear of this offer.

"Yeah, but I passed. Not my thing."

"Do you think he'd let me use them? I've been wanting to start working out," Carl asked from his spot by the fireplace where he was working on his math homework in between conversations.

"Probably. I can ask for you," Michonne offered. "You can start running with me, too, if you want."

"In the snow?" Carl asked wrinkling his nose.

"Yeah, in the snow. So long as you're dressed warmly, you'll be fine. It's actually nice. Beats running outside during a Georgia summer, that's for sure."

"I'll try, but no promises," Carl said with a smile as he returned his focus to his homework.

"You wanna come, too?" she asked looking up at Rick with a knowing smile.

"I'll pass," he said just as he'd done when invited several times before.

"I'll never understand how you look the way you do when you don't exercise. It's not fair," she complained.

"You act like I sit around doing nothing all day long. Anyway, it's not like those push up things you do a few minutes every night explain those arms," he quipped.

"They're planks, and they're much harder than they look. You should try it with me sometime."

"I'll try," Carl piped in. "Will you show me how to do them?"

"Of course," she said as she gave Rick a sidelong glance. "Come on over here where there's more room."

She scooped Judy up into her arms and moved over to give him space between the coffee table and where she now knelt.

"OK, so lay on your belly, tuck your toes into the ground," she said as she watched him, "Yep. Now elbows bent and under your shoulders, and push up! Keep your body in a straight line." She tapped her hand under his stomach to correct his form as she saw his back dipping.

"This isn't so bad."

"OK, but you have to do it for fifty-five more seconds. And then twice again after that."

"No problem."

"Sounds like we need to make this more challenging, Judes." Michonne scooted closer to Carl's side and sat the baby down on his back, grabbing her fingers for support.

"Ugh," he grunted feeling the extra weight. Michonne laughed and looked up at Rick who now sat up, chuckling as he watched the three of them.

"I don't think I'm gonna make it."

"You can do it. Just concentrate on your breathing and form."

She watched as his arms started to tremble knowing he wouldn't last much longer, but he stuck it out for another twenty seconds before finally collapsing onto the ground. Michonne lifted Judith in her hands so that she didn't fall with him and sat down on the floor, placing her in her lap. Carl rolled onto his back, and propped himself up on his elbows revealing his flushed cheeks.

"That's really hard," he panted, directing his statement to his father.

"It is hard. Takes a while to build up your strength. You did a good job," Michonne reassured him. He plopped back down on his back and rubbed his hands over his face.

"You still want to go out running with her after that torture?" Rick asked with a grin.

"Of course I do," he murmured from behind his hands.

Rick laid back down on the couch, picking up his book again, and Michonne moved to curl up with Judith in the small space left at the end of the couch while Carl recovered.

"Oh hey, what are some good dates?" he asked as he started to pull himself up to a seated position.

"Dates for what?" Michonne asked looking over at Rick who placed his book down on his chest and turned his attention to his son.

"Did Mrs. Neidermeyer start bugging you about that, too?" Rick looked to Michonne to explain. "She's been trying to get us to commit to dinner at her place and I keep putting her off, tryin' to get out of it."

"No, I mean, like a _date_ date. What are some good ideas?"

Rick and Michonne looked at each other. She opened her mouth to speak, and let it hang there for a second unsure of what to say.

"Son, I'm not sure we're the best people to ask about that." Michonne nudged Rick's knee telling him, no doubt, to speak for himself.

"Well, you two just started dating, so I thought you'd know."

"We're not really dating, that's-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop," Michonne said pointing a finger to hush Rick before directing her stare to Carl. "Is this like part two of your little game? Trying to get us to say we're married or something?"

"No," Carl snapped defensively.

"Just making sure. Carry on."

"Well, I was just saying we're not really dating because that's used more for when you're just getting to know someone," Rick finished explaining, knowing his son had never experienced or been told about the stages of relationships.

"So anyway, since you've dated or whatever, I thought you'd have some advice."

"For you," Michonne clarified.

"Yeah," Carl said refusing to feel embarrassed for asking.

"Well, I mean there's the standard stuff: dinner, movies, games…" Michonne rattled on.

"Yeah, but if you already do all of those things as friends, how do you make it a date?"

"That's a good question...Rick, you have any thoughts?" she asked trying to involve his father who'd gone silent at the opposite end of the couch.

"I think you shouldn't worry about that stuff now. Just focus on your school work and your chores and your family."

"I already do, and I still have plenty of time on my hands."

"Then we'll find more things to keep you busy," Rick said as he sat up to swing his legs around to the floor. "I'm gonna get ready for bed. You should finish up your homework and do the same." He stood up, book in hand, and made his way up the stairs leaving Michonne and Carl looking at each other in silence.

"We're talking about Enid, right?" Michonne asked softly once it was just the two of them.

"Yeah, I like her."

"The new workout plan have anything to do with that, too?"

"Maybe."

"You don't have it easy, I'll give you that. In my experience, the best dates are ones that are personal and tailored to the two people who are going on them, so think about that tonight. In the meantime, why don't you invite her over to have dinner with us tomorrow night?"

"I don't think he's gonna go for that."

"Don't worry about your dad. I'll handle it."

xxxxx

"Must be some book," Michonne said as she entered their bedroom to find Rick reading in bed.

"I wish I could tell you it was," he said closing it as she walked over and took a seat on his side of the bed in the small space left between his leg and the edge.

"What's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just don't think he should be worrying about that stuff."

"He's fifteen. These are the things fifteen year olds worry about. Isn't that the whole point of us being here? So that he can have some semblance of a normal life?"

Rick's eyes darted to the ceiling then back to Michonne as he tried to find a way to continue arguing his point in the face of hers.

"Well, she seems fast to me. I don't want Carl getting involved with her."

"Oh my god," Michonne laughed uncomfortably at his use of the expression. "I know you don't really mean that."

"No. I guess what I mean is, I don't trust her. There's something about her..."

"Well, when she comes over for dinner tomorrow night, we'll get to know her, see if you're right."

"Are you serious?"

"I am. Six o'clock. Carl and I will take care of everything. I just need you to show up with an open mind."

Rick sighed and looked at her for a moment, his expression and tone of voice finally softening, "Maggie wants to have a baby."

Michonne just looked at him, confused by the non sequitur.

"Glenn told me today. He wanted my reassurance, I guess, that they could do it. He started talking about feeling a responsibility for building the next generation and naming off the small circle of people who could actually make that happen, and he included Carl's name on the list..."

"And it freaked you out that your son is closer to being an adult than a little kid anymore," she finished for him.

"Of course. The idea that in a few years he could be settling down, become a father? I don't want that kind of worry and responsibility for him yet."

"Just to clarify, we're only talking about a first date right now," she teased as she nudged him to scoot over to make room for her. He moved over and held his arm out, inviting her to rest her head against his chest before he wrapped his arm around her.

"I know," he said assuring her that he wasn't being completely unreasonable.

"You know, if things were different, I'd have been the first one telling him to focus on himself. But there won't be SAT's or college or backpacking through Europe or climbing the corporate ladder. There's just life as it is now, and if he's able to find joy in it, who are we to stop him?"

Rick was rendered speechless because there was no rebuttal to her argument; still change was scary and his instinct to protect his son in any and every way possible was hard to suppress.

"And you've gotta know I'm gonna be checking her out tomorrow. Any hint of shadiness won't fly with me. Not for Carl," she said smiling up at Rick.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that," Rick said with a smirk. He trusted her gut on all matter of things, this being no exception.

"I do want him to be happy and have a normal life. That conversation with Glenn just got to me. I mean, I expected him to name us not Carl."

"Well, we're getting up there in age, baby, plus we've got our hands full with your kids and running the community. We're more than doing our part," she stated without hesitation, her tone lighter than he would have expected.

"Are we?"

Michonne lifted her head from where it was resting on his chest and looked up at him, his blue eyes focused on her and a small, but perceptible frown on his face. She replayed his question in her mind for a moment, realizing that this wasn't Rick doubting his contributions as a leader or a rhetorical question. He was questioning whether those were valid reasons not to have a child of their own someday.

"We are," she answered quietly, placing her head on his chest as soon as the words left her mouth, not wanting to see his reaction. She could feel and hear a soft grunt emanate from his throat in response as he wrapped his arm around her a little tighter, staying like that until they drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

_So loooong time, no see with this one. Of all of my stories, I was always surprised that I would get requests to follow up on this one. In the year since I wrote the last chapter, Jessie got chopped and we went canon, so it's a whole new world and it finally felt fresh to me again, so I was finally ready to close the loop. This picks up right where chapter 6 left off, so you may want to read it first. Carl's into a girl, and Rick and Michonne are thinking about family. Hope you enjoy!_

 **Future Plans, Part 2**

"Look at you!"

The minute she caught sight of him, her eyes went wide and she stopped what she was doing, just staring at him with an uncharacteristically big, over-eager smile that deeply disturbed him. The one person he could typically count on to keep her cool was losing it on the night he needed it most. He wanted to crawl under something and die from embarrassment, but he was already committed, so he continued into the kitchen under her completely adoring and unyielding gaze.

"Stop," he warned as he neared her.

"Come here, just let me-"

"Michonne," the young man groaned as he dodged the two hands that were coming at his collar to straighten it.

"Fine." She dropped her hands to her side and wiped the smile off of her face once she realized that she was giving him that same kind of fussy attention she hated receiving from her mom when she was his age. "You look very nice. Handsome."

And he really did with his plaid shirt buttoned up and tucked into a clean pair of jeans instead of hanging open over a t-shirt like usual, and his unruly hair tamed and pushed out of his eyes. He shoved his hands in his front pockets and dipped his chin to his chest while his cheeks went pink with embarrassment.

"Thank you," he mumbled before looking back up at her. "What can I do to help?"

"Dinner's already in the oven and I'm just finishing up with the salad," she said as she glanced down at the cutting board full of chopped peppers and cucumbers in front of her, "so how about you set the table?"

He nodded then practically bolted over to the cabinet across the kitchen to escape her stare. She shook her head and chuckled softly once he was behind her, then went back to chopping vegetables until she heard footsteps starting down the stairs.

She rested her hands on the counter again as she watched the image of her love reveal itself from the bottom up. Boots, jeans, belt, tucked-in white button down shirt, sweet little blonde in a pink dress on his hip, and his still damp hair combed back allowing a thick of curls to gather at the base of his neck. She smiled to herself, _like father like son_.

"And you look handsome, too," she said as she watched him stroll into the kitchen.

Unlike his son, his face lit up, flattered and surprised by her compliment as if she hadn't told him that a hundred times before. He tilted his head to one side and grinned smugly as he walked toward her.

"Yeah?" he whispered as he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah," she confirmed as she stayed planted in front of the counter, hands occupied with cooking, and offered up her cheek to accept the sweetness he was giving.

"So what can I do so you can go get ready?" he asked has he pulled back and surveyed the kitchen while lightly bouncing Judith on his hip.

"Nothing. I told you, Carl and I have it all under control."

Before he could even protest, there was a knock on the door, earlier than expected, but not at all unwelcome.

"You can answer that for me," she suggested sweetly as she returned to finishing up the salad.

As he walked over to the door, he glanced back at Carl who seemed more focused on setting the table than before, head down and not even making an effort to get to the door to welcome his personal dinner guest. It was clear that his son was nervous, so as he placed his hand on the doorknob, he paused for a moment and took another glance back at him.

"You ready?"

"Dad," he groaned, exasperated with yet another adult's behavior this evening.

"Ok, ok," Rick muttered as he faced the door and turned the handle.

The door opened revealing Enid in the same black Chuck's, cut-off jeans, and loose t-shirt he'd seen her walking around in earlier that day. And just as he was sizing her up, he could feel her scrutinizing gaze on him as she took in his appearance. Her eyes finally landed on his face where his eyes were squinted and lips were trying to force a welcoming grin.

"I didn't realize we were supposed to get dressed up," she remarked in monotone, no hello or anything.

"Oh, we're not," he lied as he self-consciously glanced down at his one nice shirt. "This was just the only thing I had clean. Come on in."

As he stepped aside to let her in the door, he caught sight of his son standing beside the table, shirt now untucked, and hand coming down from his newly mussed hair. He then glanced over at Michonne to share a look over Carl's quick change, but her attention was elsewhere, smiling and observing the two teens in her equally casual tank and jeans that she seemed to have no plans of changing out of now.

"Oh. Hey Enid," he greeted as if he wasn't expecting her.

Rick looked down at Judith in her little dress, and rolled his eyes at the two of them. _Sell outs_ he thought to himself.

"Hey," she answered equally nonchalantly as she strolled into the living room. "Hey Michonne."

"Hi Enid. Glad you could make it."

"Yeah, it was just leftovers at Olivia's tonight so this was a no brainer," she mumbled as she plopped down on the couch as if she owned the place.

Rick shook his head in confusion at her unfriendly yet overly comfortable behavior in his home, a place he couldn't recall her ever being before. He could, however, recall always being on his best behavior when meeting parents for the first time, so this was confounding as he looked at his smitten son and then to Michonne who seemed to have no issue with any of this.

"Have a seat," he mumbled under his breath as he shut the door and walked into the living room. "Carl, why don't I take over so you can hang out with Enid?"

"Dad, I've got it," Carl groaned again.

Rick questioned whether he really did since he seemed to be setting the small table for the last ten minutes, though.

"Ok…" he relented with a sigh as he sat down on the couch opposite Enid. They stared at each other for a moment, him trying his best to be the gracious host by forcing a smile.

"So how was your day?"

"Fine," she answered as she stared blankly at him while picking at the threads in the hole in her jeans over her left knee.

He nodded slowly and bit down at his lip failing to see the charm in this girl. In a strange way, he felt like he was the one on the awkward first date instead of his son here; something he had no intention of ever doing again in his life since he had snagged the one and only woman he could ever imagine himself with.

And before he could spend another moment commiserating with himself, he felt the couch shift beside him and a warm hand on his thigh. He looked down to find a tumbler full of brown liquid, the good stuff, just for him. As soon as he took the glass from her hand, he felt it go straight to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, a silent reminder to relax. And this was just one of the many reasons she was his one and only.

"Thank you," he whispered as he turned to look at her, surprised to find her raising her own glass of brown liquid over ice toward his.

"Cheers," she whispered back with a small sympathetic smile. Apparently she was right there with him tonight. He clinked her glass and took a sip as he placed his hand on her knee while he watched Carl sit down next to Enid, offering her one half of one of the last remaining cans of soda in the community.

With drinks in hand, soda for the kids, whiskey for the grow-ups, and nothing for poor Judith, the five of them settled into their seats in the living room as that awkward silence snuck up on them once again. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the kitchen timer counting down the 12 minutes left until the casserole was ready and they all had something to distract them from their unease.

Michonne looked at Carl, still painfully shy around Enid in front of them, and then at Rick, still painfully reserved and closed-mouth. Her heart went out to both of her boys having to see them go through this tortuous rite of passage. She lifted her drink to her lips, and took a generous sip as she tried to think of anything at all to say. Her eyes wandered around the room looking for inspiration, something she found once they landed on the DVD case laying on top of their entertainment center.

"Have you two seen _Lost in Translation_ yet?"

She knew it was a stupid question because they had all watched the few random movies they had in their collection at least once, if not twice, since things had slowed down and there was nothing else to occupy their time after dark. At least it was something, though.

"Yeah. I thought it was kinda boring," Carl said with a grin as he glanced at Enid beside him.

"I kinda liked it," she admitted.

"You would," he teased, his grin growing wider.

Enid rolled her eyes, but Michonne could see the faint grin she was holding back as she turned her face from Carl, which made Michonne smile herself. It was good to see them loosen up just a bit.

"Oh, I like it, too," she agreed. "It's one of my favorties. What'd you think of it?" she asked as she turned to Rick and patted his hand with hers, trying to drag him into the conversation.

"I don't think I've seen it."

"Yes you have. We watched it two nights ago. Billy Murray? Japan?" she asked trying to jog his memory.

"He probably slept through it," Carl pointed out to Michonne before turning to Enid to explain. "He always falls asleep when we're watching TV."

"I do not," Rick protested.

"Yes you do," he insisted. "You get real quiet, then a few minutes later, it's just-" He abandoned his words for a loud, snoring sound.

Enid began to snicker which caused Carl to laugh which caused Judith to begin laughing and bouncing in her father's lap because she was always game to join in on a good time whether she understood it or not. Michonne bit back her smile as she looked at Rick who gave her a tepid smile, trying to be a good sport about the ribbing as he struggled with the excitable toddler in his lap. She'd tried to help him out, but failed.

"Yeah, I guess I do," Rick said right before Judith planted a palm over his lips which amused her to no end.

Rick pulled his glass up and away from Judith's busy hands as they moved on to their next target, but one of her small fingers had already managed to hook the rim causing the drink to spill all over the front of Rick's white dress shirt. As Michonne lunged for Judith, Carl sprung to his feet to grab a dish towel, and Rick recovered the glass from the couch cushions; Enid sat still in her seat, her quiet laugh rising above all of other sounds in the room. Rick couldn't help but throw a look her way despite trying to mask his annoyance over her response. Much to his surprise, her eyebrows raised slightly and her laughing slowed to a halt.

"I'm not laughing at you," she explained as a giggle escaped her lips again. "It's the baby, trying to drink. It's funny."

He pressed his lips together and exhaled through his nose. He just did not get this girl at all.

"I'm gonna go get a new shirt," he muttered to Michonne as he went to stand, his hands hovering helplessly over the damp stain that covered the entire bottom half of his shirt.

"Yeah," Michonne agreed as she bounced Judith in her lap, purposely holding onto her little hands that had caused all the trouble in the first place.

Rick trudged up the stairs to his room still smarting over Enid's reaction to his misfortune. As someone who was brought up in a world of _Yes, Ma'am's_ and _No, Sir's_ and _Please's_ and _Thank You's_ , and as someone who'd reared his son the same way and was already starting with his baby girl, he couldn't help but be bothered by her behavior. All of his reservations about this girl were being confirmed. She wasn't good enough for his son, not by a long shot, even in this world.

He walked into his room and over to his dresser, opening the top drawer where he kept his t-shirts, figuring he'd just join the club and dress down, but the drawer was empty.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath as he shut the drawer. He hadn't lied after all; this really was his last clean shirt.

He headed back downstairs hoping to at least fish his least dirty shirt out of the hamper in the laundry room. As he reached the bottom, he could hear Michonne and Carl laughing and talking about something that he just assumed was at his expense given how the evening was going, so he kept on down the hall not even bothering to look up. As he neared the laundry room, something caught his eye as he passed the now empty bedroom that Michonne used to occupy. He took a few steps back, and peeked through the doorway, surprised to find Enid standing in front of the bare dresser, deep in thought over an object in her hands.

"You need something?" he asked as he stepped through the doorway. He heard her inhale sharply with surprise as she turned her head toward the unexpected voice.

"Oh. I was just looking for the bathroom," she explained quietly.

"Well, it's right through there," he said, pointing at the closed door on the far wall.

She nodded and then turned the object in her hand toward him so that he could see what she had been caught looking at.

"You have, like, the perfect family," she scoffed, her detached tone making a return.

He looked at the framed picture in her hand, and squinted to make out the black and white image it held. He felt a grin tug at the corner of his mouth once he recognized it. It was the picture taken right after the one of Carl and Judith that sits on his dresser upstairs. He remembered the day Aaron snapped the picture on their front porch, then called for Rick and Michonne to join them. They exchanged a shy look then quietly walked up onto the porch and took their places, one on each side of the kids, and smiled big for the picture. It was taken just a few weeks before everything had changed between the two of them, but to look at it now, you'd never know the difference.

"We're far from perfect," he said after a thoughtful pause.

"Well, it's a nice family," she countered as she placed it back on the dresser.

"Thank you." There was a quiet sincerity to her voice that struck him, made him a little sad to hear even. He began to wonder if it was fair to hold her to the same standards he had as a kid considering how different things were for her. So he cleared his throat, and decided to take the opening she had given him and try again. "You said you live with Olivia?"

"I stay at her place," she corrected as she played with the hem of her shirt.

"Right," he said with a nod. "If you don't mind me askin', what happened?"

"Same thing that always happens," she explained in her detached way. "I lost them out there. My parents."

And with that, it finally all made sense. Her demeanor, Carl's interest, and his own reaction; it all felt so familiar. The loss this young woman had incurred and the way she was dealing with it reminded him of someone now very dear to him, someone sitting the next room over with the two most important people in his life. And just like the time before, his son had gotten it before he did. Underneath the hard shell, there was something there, and he could see it now. His son certainly had a type. _Like father like son._

"Well, I'm sorry, Enid." He took a few steps into the room and nodded toward the frame. "Everyone in that photo has lost someone, too."

"I know," she said quickly, trying to cut him off before he said something mushy. She may have lost her father, but she recognized that look on his face, and could feel him gearing up for a _dad_ moment. "Carl told me."

"Well, if there's anything you ever need, our home is-"

She groaned inwardly at him for not getting the hint. "You should change your shirt," she interjected dryly. "That stain's going to set."

"Right," he said under his breath as he backed out of the room and let her be.

* * *

"She's done," Michonne said through a yawn as she looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms and leaned against the counter. They'd cleared the table, the kitchen was spotless, and there was nothing else left for them to do downstairs. "I'm about to be. How much longer do you think we have to wait up for them?"

He looked out the front window, making out the two faint silhouettes on the porch then at the very tired ladies before him; tuckered out and completely adorable, the two of them. He tilted his head and gave a sympathetic grin as he reached out to cup Michonne's cheek with his hand.

"You don't," he said as he leaned in to give her a goodnight kiss on the forehead. "Go on up. I'll take care of it."

As he lowered his head to do the same for Judith, his hand trailed from her cheek to her shoulder, feeling tension in the shoulder that had been slack with fatigue just seconds earlier.

"Oh...no, that's OK."

He drew back from Judith's head, and found Michonne's eyes, suddenly bright and alert, trailing from the front porch to him.

"What?" he asked with a tilted head. "You don't trust me?"

"I…" She blinked rapidly as she stammered trying to explain her sudden change of tune. "Of course, I do. I just…"

"I'm not gonna do anything to embarrass him," he assured her.

She stared back at him and exhaled through her nose, feet planted to the floor. He knew she was torn between trusting him and protecting Carl from any possible embarrassment from his old man. If he didn't love her so much, he might be irritated, but he had no illusions about the loyalties she had to his son; he was the one who claimed her as one of them after all.

"Go," he said with a tilt of his head toward the stairs.

She was slow to start walking, but eventually made it out of the kitchen and up the stairs, even if she was sneaking looks to check in on him the entire way up. He scoffed at her second guessing him and shook his head then walked over toward the coffee table which was the last place he remembered seeing the lantern. He picked it up and brought it close to his ear then twirled it, hearing the hollow swishing sound of the last bit of oil making its way around the metal base. _Perfect_ he thought.

He made his way to the front door, intentionally not softening his step like he normally would when he knew the baby was down for the night. As he reached for the doorknob, he let his hand linger for a moment while he coughed dryly to clear the tickle that didn't exist in the back of his throat. He wanted to give them as much time as possible to stop anything they may be doing both for their benefit and his. After a second "cough" and another scuffle of feet, he turned the handle and slowly stepped out onto the porch.

"Hey Dad."

At the sound of Carl's voice, he allowed himself looked up from the ground to find his son and Enid sitting next to each other on the porch swing, hands to themselves, and at least a good foot of space between them.

"Hey," he greeted with relief. "Just wanted to bring this out for you," he said as he held the lantern up for show. "Figured you could use it."

"Thanks." Carl reached out to take the lantern in his father's hand, but Rick kept it close to his chest instead.

"Now I figure you've got about an hour's worth of oil left in here. And you're gonna want to see Enid home and get back here before it runs out…"

"Yeah. Of course," Carl said blankly. He wasn't stupid, and he wasn't raised by wolves after all. He'd have done that whether his father strongly suggested so or not.

"OK." Trusting that he was understood, he finally handed off the lantern to his son. "Night you two."

"Night Dad."

"Good night, Mr. Grimes," Enid chimed in with a half-smile that was the most he'd seen all night. "Thanks again for dinner."

"Anytime, Enid," he said as he turned away, letting his hand wave goodbye behind him.

With the door shut, and any concerns now out of sight, though still not out of mind, he walked through the living room and kitchen turning off lights, then down the hall to the laundry room, and finally Michonne's old room. As he went to turn off the light, he noticed the framed picture still sitting on her dresser. He tucked into the room to grab it before flipping the switch and heading upstairs to their bedroom.

As soon as he entered, he went to his dresser and pushed aside the book and candle setting there, then put the framed family picture in the cleared space, the perfect complement to the photo of his children on the other side. As he finished arranging it, he looked back to catch Michonne walking out of their bathroom with a curious expression on her face.

"Figured it should be up here with us now," he explained.

She smiled at the sweet sentiment, then walked up behind him and slid her arms around his waist while she pressed her lips to the nape of his neck then raised herself onto her tiptoes, and rested her chin on his right shoulder, admiring the family photo that was like new to her again after a few months of not seeing it every day.

"You kick them out of the house?" she softly teased into his ear.

"No. You really think I'd do that?"

"Honestly, I was fifty-fifty."

His chin dropped to his chest in disappointment and he couldn't help but shake his head at her.

"No. I gave them some space and told them to be in bed within an hour," he explained. "Their _own_ beds."

"Rick…" she exhaled through a quiet chuckle. He was _so_ close to playing that cool, but not quite.

"What?"

He'd be the first to admit that he could be willfully oblivious at times, but he honestly did not think that was too old-fashioned or unreasonable a notion.

"Nothing," she promised. "You're a good dad, you know that?"

"I'm tryin'...feel rusty at it. I put everything I had into keeping them safe. Turns out that wasn't even the hardest part."

"Mmm, no," she murmured into his shoulder. "And this is Carl. Judes? Judes is gonna give us fits."

"Don't…" he trailed off as he began to chuckle. "Please don't remind me."

"It's coming," she insisted. "But we've got this."

He squeezed her hands with his then lifted her left hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss over her bent fingers before lowering them to back to the spot where they'd been resting on his belly. His eyes hadn't left the picture in front of him. _Rick, Michonne, Carl, and Judith_. They weren't perfect people, and the circumstances that brought them together were the farthest thing from perfect, but these four people together were. They had lost so much, but still had more than most, more than he ever could have imagined, and that was all he needed.

"We do. Our kids don't have a clue who they're dealing with," he said with the steely determination usually reserved for his wartime speeches.

He felt her erupt into a belly laugh as she buried her forehead into his back, laughing with and at him all at once, which caused him to do the same. As their laughter subsided, she took a deep breath in and closed her eyes and smiled to herself. _Our kids_. It wasn't lost on her how he'd uttered that for the first time during this moment of levity. It wouldn't change a thing at all, but it was time that they called it what it was. She squeezed her arms tighter around his waist, feeling content as could be with this man and their children, and the family they had pieced together against all odds.

"Our poor babies…" she sighed.


End file.
